Learning to Con
by Dragongurl288
Summary: Set immediately after Thirteen talks to Taub in "Help Me." This is my take on Thirteen's new storyline. Thirteen is finally beginning to accept her disease. Who helped her get there? Contains season 6 spoilers, mature language, and probably femslash.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The name for this story comes from Tegan and Sara's album The Con. The concept for the album is supposed to be this idea of trying to create and project a certain image of yourself during tough times. That's what the characters are doing here. Also, that's what I'm doing. There are a lot of things in my life and in my head that are preventing me from writing and this story is my hope that conning myself into being productive will relive my writer's block.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Thirteen walked quickly from the glass doors of House's office. As she rushed to the elevator, her eyes were becoming glassy, threatening to spill over with tears for the second time that night. The elevator seemed to be taking its time ascending to the floor and Thirteen hoped desperately that Taub had not decided to follow her. She pressed the down button impatiently and repeatedly before the elevator finally stopped. When the doors opened she hurled herself into the corner as burning tears streamed down her cheeks. Her body heaved with the effort of the violent sobs. Her breath drew in raggedly as she began to hyperventilate.

When the force of her breakdown had eased some, Thirteen looked up to find a young woman staring at her with concern. Startled, she quickly jumped to her feet and attempted to wipe the tears from her face, but they continued to fall. She hated for anyone to see her so vulnerable and something in the woman's face made Thirteen uneasy. For a moment all she could do was look back at the woman. Thirteen began to memorize the way her long, curly hair fell in her face, framing the patient, caring look etched upon her tawny features.

The woman held out a hand to Thirteen who latched onto it as if it were her lifeline. Their fingers laced and the woman pulled Thirteen into a tight embrace. "Are you okay?" the woman asked.

Thirteen nodded uncertainly into her shoulder. She clung to the woman a few moments longer before she pulled back. "I just want to get home," she said shakily.

Thirteen sighed as the woman took her hand and gently led her to her car. She slipped into the passenger's seat and let her head fall back heavily as she closed her eyes. Tears still stung in her eyes as the light from passing streetlamps seared through her eyelids. She stole a glance at the woman next to her before her gaze fell to the center console. Their hands were tightly clasped together on the armrest. "Rachel?" Thirteen cleared her throat, trying fruitlessly to make her voice sound less strained. "Could you- would you mind…" Thirteen trailed off. Uncertain of how to broach the question she wanted to ask, she simply stared out the windshield.

"Can I stay at your place tonight?" Rachel asked for her. "It's getting late, I don't really feel up to driving home."

Thirteen nodded thankfully, "I'd like that." 

The rest of the drive was silent except for the pattering raindrops of a burgeoning storm. Rachel parked the car and quickly reached to the back seat for an umbrella. By the time she had retrieved it and gotten it open, Thirteen was halfway to the front door of her building. She made no attempt to shield herself from the rain or to allow Rachel to move her under the umbrella.

They walked down the hall to Thirteen's door. As Thirteen sorted through her bag for her keys Rachel shook the umbrella out, making sure the majority of the water soaked Thirteen. "Hey!"

"Sorry," Rachel shrugged. "You didn't seem to mind getting wet."

Thirteen rolled her eyes as she pushed into her apartment and huffed off to her bedroom with Rachel behind her. "You're being stubborn," Rachel said, grabbing Thirteen by the arms. "Look at you you're soaked."

"You didn't help the matter," Thirteen grumbled as she pulled free of Rachel's grasp.

Rachel tenderly pushed a few damp locks of hair from Thirteen's face. "Stop pulling away from me." She pulled Thirteen into her arms and placed a kiss against her temple.

For a moment Thirteen relaxed into the embrace, allowing herself to melt into Rachel's touch. The moment quickly passed, as she felt the walls around her heart begin to lower. Thirteen quickly wriggled from the hug before she began to feel too vulnerable. She rushed to the bathroom, staring back at Rachel through the mirror. At once Thirteen regretted living in a loft. There was no door slam shut, nothing to serve as a boundary between her and Rachel's frustrated but patient glare.

Thirteen quickly washed up and removed her drenched clothing, shivering slightly as the cool air hit her naked chest. She walked to her dresser and quickly pulled a t-shirt over her body. Thirteen glanced at Rachel, who was draped across her bed. "Would you like a shirt to sleep in?" When Rachel nodded Thirteen tossed her a shirt and watched as she changed. "Can I get you anything? A drink? Are you hungry? I could cook."

Rachel shook her head as she took Thirteen's hands in her own. "I'm fine. You should just relax."

Thirteen wrenched her hands free again before taking hold of Rachel's face and pulling her into a kiss. Rachel leaned in and deepened the kiss before pulling closer. Thirteen's hands roamed up Rachel's shirt, inching toward her breasts before Rachel jerked away. "Remy, that's not what I meant."

Thirteen pulled Rachel back desperately. "Can't you just kiss me? Just be with me. I need something to do. I need something to distract me."

"Talk to me," Rachel said pulling Thirteen closer.

"I don't want to talk," Thirteen said, instantly twisting away. She walked to the other side of the bed, putting distance between herself and Rachel.

"Remy! Stop running from me," Rachel pleaded. "Talk to me."

"I don't want to talk. I just want to do something, anything. If I don't find something to keep me busy I'll just start crying again."

"You're already crying." Rachel watched as Thirteen wiped away tears she hadn't felt fall. "It's okay for you to let me see you vulnerable. You don't have to pull away from me."

"You do the same thing when you're upset," Thirteen sniped. "You storm off and push people away."

"I know," Rachel shot back. She moved to the other side of the bed and stood in front of Thirteen. "That's how I know that the only thing you want right now is for me to hold you in my arms and make you feel safe."

Rachel pulled Thirteen into her arms again, crisscrossing them tightly around her back. For the first time that night, Thirteen truly allowed herself to be held. Her walls began to crumble and the tears came easily then.

The sobs wracked Thirteen's body. She began to tremble so fiercely that Rachel had to ease them onto the bed. There Thirteen crawled into Rachel's lap like a child. She cried for what might have been hours, until her tears ran dry and her lids became heavy.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: The backstory here begins right around episode 5.16. I've never written a story in this way before, so please review and let me know how it works. Also let me know if anyone's OOC, because I haven't written FF in a long time. Hope you enjoy!

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Sometime during the middle of the night Thirteen stirred from her sleep. The room was dark, but a bit of pale moonlight reached down from the skylights. Thirteen glanced over to Rachel. Her chest rose and fell slowly and she looked so serene in her deep slumber. Rachel's arms were wrapped tightly around Thirteen's body, holding her close. Thirteen inched closer and marveled at how safe she felt in Rachel's unconscious grasp.

Thirteen slowly drifted back, thinking through the events that had led them here, of how she had met Rachel.

A few weeks after Foreman's defiance of protocol had ended any participation in the Huntington's drug trial, he had encouraged Thirteen to begin a physical therapy regimen. The conversation hadn't been planned, or even well conceived. Foreman had simply blurted out his concerns over breakfast. "A friend of mine heads the physiotherapy department," Foreman told her. "I passed your file onto her and she thinks she can help you."

Thirteen glared at him. "You didn't think you should ask me before you handed my medical records over to someone?"

"I thought if I asked you'd say no."

"It's only been a couple weeks since-"

"I also thought you'd make excuses. The sooner you start a new treatment plan the better. Working out will build strength, improve balance and coordination, and help delay symptoms."

"Eric…"

"Remy. Just say you'll talk to her," Foreman pleaded.

Seeing the determination and concern in his eyes Thirteen only nodded. 

A few days passed before Thirteen could no longer put off her consult with Rachel. With the team in between cases, and she and Foreman still hiding their relationship from House, stalling was only making life harder.

Thirteen made her way to the physiotherapy department. She approached the head office, the door reading:

Rachel Galvin, PT, D.O.

Department of Physiotherapy

Thirteen peered through the parted blinds. She could see Rachel leaning over the desk, reading intently. She watched Rachel for a second, noticing how she tucked away stray curls that fell in her face and how she bit on the end of a pen absentmindedly. Taking a moment to compose herself, Thirteen knocked on the door.

"Come in," Rachel invited.

"Hi, I'm looking for Dr. Galvin."

Rachel smirked a bit before moving to introduce herself. "You must be Remy Hadley. Or do you prefer Thirteen?" She waited for a response, but received only an incredulous look from Thirteen. "Foreman sent you, right?"

Thirteen nodded, "You're Rachel Galvin?"

"Yes."

"You're the head of the physio department?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Excuse me?" Rachel asked as her dark eyes flashed indignantly.

"I'm sorry," Thirteen replied, realizing her rudeness. "I didn't mean it that way. I'm not trying to question your qualifications. I just mean you're really young. You're, what, twenty-five?"

"Twenty-six."

"How'd you do it?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes, "I thought you weren't trying to question my qualifications."

"Sorry, I'm just curious."

"Listen, since you work for House, I'm sure you're used to a certain degree of shameless honesty. It's hard enough having to prove myself to the men for being a woman and to other women for being young. If I have to start proving myself to other young women and potential clients it will be very difficult to do my job."

"I'm sorry, you're right. I'm being an ass," Thirteen looked at her feet sheepishly.

"It's okay," Rachel shrugged. "I hear House rubs off. Which means this will continue to bug you, won't it."

Thirteen winced at her own persistence, "It really, really will."

Rachel smiled slightly, "I earned my bachelor's in Kinesiology at Princeton, then my PT certification from University of Maryland while I was earning my D.O. at Hopkins. I specialize in Physical medicine and rehabilitation, which is why you're here, and my subspecialty is Neuromuscular medicine, which is how I met Foreman. I did my residency here, and when the former department head left, Cuddy felt I would handle this position well. I'm also a certified personal trainer."

"Impressive."

"Thank you. Can we talk about you now?" Rachel asked, settling behind her desk.

Thirteen nodded and took a seat, "Shoot."

"Well, Foreman sent me all of your records, so I really only have a few questions. Have you started experiencing any pain?"

"No."

"Any cogwheeling or rigidity?"

"No."

"Have you noticed any tremors or twitching?"

Thirteen hesitated a moment, "A little. Mostly when I'm tired."

"When did you first notice that?" Rachel asked, making a note.

"About six months ago."

"How severe are the movements?"

Thirteen began to feel uncomfortable. Until this point she had only spoken so candidly about her disease with Foreman. Rachel noticed her wringing her hands nervously and paused for a moment. "Take your time, Dr. Hadley," she started. "But I need to know if your symptoms are advancing."

Thirteen shook her head, "It's not that. I'm just not used to talking about this."

"It's okay," Rachel smiled reassuringly. "So, how severe are the movements?"

"Not very. Just small spasms every now and then."

"Good. How often do you exercise?"

"Two times a week, sometimes three," Thirteen's eyes rolled towards the ceiling as she answered.

"Okay," Rachel smiled. "And now the honest answer, please."

Thirteen laughed at herself and returned the smile. "Once or twice… a month."

"That's still better than most," Rachel said, making a final note. "I'd like to get you in for a nerve conduction study and an EMG."

"Okay," Thirteen replied, becoming nervous again.

"Everything seems fine, I'd just like to get a good baseline of where you're at. I can get you in a few days from now, say Thursday?"

"Thursday sounds fine, assuming I don't have to pull any crazy stunts for House."

"We'll make it work," Rachel laughed. She stood and moved to show Thirteen out. "Just come on down when you're free. It was good meeting you."

Rachel smiled warmly and extended her hand. The warmth of the smile spread to Thirteen, encouraging her to do the same as she took Rachel's hand and shook it. "You as well." 

The week passed slowly, amounting to a string of torturous trials seemingly designed to leave Thirteen hiding in the bathroom. She desperately wanted anything to give her a break from work. Thursday hadn't come soon enough.

That morning, after having a confrontation with a patient's mother, Thirteen headed to Rachel's office. "Is now a good time to for the NCS?"

"As long as you're ready it's fine with me." Rachel considered the discomfort involved in the procedure, "Are you sure you want to do the test and go back to work?"

"Yeah, I've been looking forward to it," Thirteen replied dryly.

"You've been looking forward to having electrodes and needles repeatedly stimulate your muscles with electricity?"

"Can we just do this, please?"

Rachel nodded and led Thirteen to one of the hospital's testing suites. While she retrieved the equipment she needed, Thirteen changed for the procedure. Sitting on the table, clad only in a gown and her underwear, she fell into a state of nervous anticipation. Before she could wonder if this was how her patients felt as they awaited the dozens of tests House usually ordered, Rachel returned.

In no time she had prepared Thirteen's skin with antiseptic, applied electrodes to her limbs, and was ready to begin the test. Thirteen could only nod vaguely as Rachel described the sensations she might feel during the procedure. It wasn't until Rachel began sending pulses to the electrodes that Thirteen realized she had not been paying attention. The brief pain and tingling sensation dancing through her arm caught her off guard, but quickly receded. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to anticipate the next pulse, but the flashes of pain were gone as quickly as they came, leaving nothing but a small twitch in her muscles. She spent the next half-hour that way as Rachel tested sites all over her body.

Thirteen didn't open her eyes again until Rachel placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm moving on to the EMG now. You'll feel a sharp pain as I insert the needle, but it shouldn't last long." When she saw Rachel wielding a long, thin needle, Thirteen snapped her eyes shut again.

It wasn't until after she had tested a few sites that Rachel looked back to Thirteen. She was nervously biting her lip as she held her breath.

"How are you liking all this snow, Dr. Hadley?"

"What?"

"The snow. How are you dealing with it?"

"You want to talk about the weather? Now?" Thirteen asked, drawing in a sharp breath.

"Talking tends to make procedures like this a little more bearable. Plus, you can't talk and hold your breath at the same time."

"The snow is fine. Cold, wet, no big deal," Thirteen blurted as the needle pierced another muscle. "Any more questions?"

Rachel hesitated, "Why are you so eager to do this today?"

"I just wanted to get it over with."

"That's fair. I don't believe you, but that's fair."

"Are you going to do that a lot?" Thirteen asked.

"Do what?"

"Call me a liar."

"Only if you lie," Rachel replied. "I figure since you know how uncomfortable these tests are, the only reason you'd want to endure them with a full day of work ahead of you is if work has become more painful than this."

Thirteen stared at her briefly, "It's not often that I meet someone this shrewd outside of House's team."

"If I'm making you uncomfortable we can change the subject. I just thought that you might want to talk about it."

Thirteen shook her head, "It was a compliment. I can see why Foreman referred me to you. You're not going to put up with my crap."

"Nope," Rachel smiled. "So, what happened?"

"I got too close to our case. I screwed up."

"How's that," Rachel asked.

"We have a thirteen-year-old boy with genetic mosaicism whose parents hadn't told him about his condition. Every time we ran a test or gave him something, we had to lie, and I got tired of it."

"So, you told him?"

"I might as well have. I told him to talk to his parents, and they told him. When we searched the home I found this poem that read like a suicide note, and I thought that knowing might help."

"But it didn't?"

"It didn't matter," Thirteen huffed. "It was a homework assignment. The mom yelled, Cuddy yelled. I had to get out of there."

Rachel flashed another reassuring look at Thirteen. "Why'd you let it get so personal?"

"I kept thinking about how my dad skirted around the possibility that I might have Huntington's. How can you keep someone in the dark about their own body? That's not even taking into account how gender confused the kid was. He was trying to figure out whether he was a girl or just gay. You can't just bury issues like that and hope they won't come up, especially around puberty. Male or female, straight, gay, bisexual, it all comes out eventually." As she finished her rant, Thirteen suddenly became self-conscious. "I might as well stick a Pride flag on my forehead."

Rachel laughed and Thirteen immediately felt at ease. "I've never been much of a joiner myself. I think bisexuals should have their own flag. Maybe two arrows pointing in either direction with a caption that says 'Either way is fine.'"

"You're bisexual?" Thirteen smiled as Rachel nodded. "I'd tell you that I am, too, but my reputation is probably rumor mill fodder."

Rachel shrugged, "I try not to get involved in the gossip around this place."

"But you do have ears," Thirteen pressed.

Rachel looked into Thirteen's eyes, "I understand how easy it is to make bad decisions and stupid mistakes when you're going through hard times. I'm here to help, not judge."

Thirteen held Rachel's gaze. As she relaxed into the safety of the moment a swell of relief passed over her. It took a moment for her to realize that Rachel had finished conducting the tests. "How's everything look?" she asked, sitting up.

Rachel looked over the results that had printed from the machine. "Everything looks good. The conduction in your hands and forearms is a little delayed, but not much. Just make sure you take it easy today. You'll probably be a little sore, and that tingling sensation may continue for a few days."

"So, what's next?"

"Next, I'll come up with an exercise program for you. I want to get some muscle on you. Why don't we meet again next Thursday?"

"Okay," Thirteen said. "Anything I should do until then?"

"Nothing too strenuous, go for an easy run. It should help relieve some stress, too. I'll leave you to get dressed."

"Dr. Galvin," Thirteen called, causing Rachel to look back from the door. "Thank you."

"Anytime, Dr. Hadley."


	3. Chapter 3

I just broke 10k words on this story, so I thought I'd celebrate with an early update. Thanks so much to CdnGirl01 for the kind words. I'd love to hear what the rest of you are thinking, reviews really make my day. As always, enjoy.  
*********************************************

After a few weeks Thirteen fell into a routine with Rachel. They would meet in the physiotherapy suite where Rachel would lead Thirteen through an array of exercises chosen for her needs. She would move through the workout under Rachel's watchful gaze before ending with a relaxing massage. That final component of therapy would inevitably lead House to make lewd comments about how much Thirteen seemed to enjoy her sessions.

Taking her chance to break away from the office, Thirteen changed and readied herself for another session.

When she had breezed through the series of stretches and warm-ups that began every session, Thirteen eagerly hopped onto the treadmill. While she ran, Rachel would take notes on her breathing, heart rate, and how easily she endured the exercise.

As her run began to wind down Thirteen started to feel immensely bored doing the same exercise every week. "Do I always have to do the treadmill? Can't we try any other cardio exercises?"

"Not until Cuddy approves a pool," Rachel replied.

"So swimming and running are the only things I can do?" Thirteen asked, breathing heavily.

"You can do whatever you want as long as get in two runs and one swim every week," Rachel smirked as she made a note of Thirteen's progress. "Looks like you've been keeping to that, too. You can start cooling down now."

Thirteen slowed the treadmill until she was at a brisk walk. "I ran three times this week. I'm starting to get into it. It's just better when I'm actually getting somewhere."

"I can't take you outside, it's against policy. But I'm glad you like running. It shows, you're gaining a lot of endurance."

"Does that mean we can start switching up the workouts? I feel like a greyhound on this thing."

"Nonsense. If you were a greyhound there would be a motorized rabbit to keep you motivated," Rachel laughed as Thirteen rolled her eyes. "Running and swimming are total body exercises. They work the core really well, increase balance, coordination, and lung function and capacity. All things you need to work on. Hit the ball."

Thirteen moved from the treadmill to a large, inflated stability ball. She got herself into position and began doing crunches. As Rachel held her legs still, she wore a curious look. "If you hate the treadmill so much, why were you so keen on using it today. Avoiding someone else?"

"I'm not avoiding anything," Thirteen said in between crunches. "There's just nothing to do right now. We're not even playing with a full team, Kutner's M.I.A."

"Is that like him?"

"No, he's almost never late," Thirteen said, finishing her exercise. "Massage time?"

"Massage time," Rachel nodded. "You're going to make me sorry I incorporated this into our sessions."

Thirteen gave a sly smile as she leaned against the massage table. "I did good work today, I've earned this. Besides, it's not my fault this is my favorite part of therapy. You have good hands."

"I'm glad I could spend a decade of my life studying and training to become your masseuse, Dr. Hadley."

"You can call me Remy," Thirteen started. "If you want."

"Lie down, please, Remy. And I suppose it wouldn't be too unprofessional for you to call me Rachel," she added as Thirteen situated herself.

Thirteen relaxed instantly as Rachel's hands moved over her shoulders and down her back. They were strong, sure, and warm. She began to feel a fluttering in her stomach as Rachel moved on to her legs. She gulped hard, trying to tuck the feeling safely away. Thirteen tried to stay calm, knowing any tension would only make the massage longer. When it was done, she tried her best to hide the blush rapidly spreading across her cheeks. Thankfully, Rachel was too preoccupied with paperwork to notice.

"I've got to get back. I'll see you later, Rachel," she mumbled, rushing out the door before Rachel could say anything. 

Thirteen chided herself as she made her way back to the office. She could not afford to let things get too personal with Rachel, especially if there were even glimmers of anything more than friendship in her mind. Her relationship with Foreman was finally good. Things weren't perfect or ideal, but she felt stable with him around. Thirteen tried to calm herself down, reminding herself that there was nothing to get worked up over; Rachel was nothing more than her physiatrist.

Before she could reach the office, Foreman was coming down the hall, motioning for her to turn around.

"House wants to us to meet him in the clinic," he said.

"Is it the patient?"

Foreman shook his head, "Patient's fine, she's being discharged. House says he wants an update, but I have a feeling that's just a prelude to him making us track down Kutner."

"Lucky us," she mumbled as she boarded the elevator. "How's her husband?"

"He's circling the drain," Foreman looked Thirteen over appreciatively. "Therapy seems to be agreeing with you. You look great, relaxed. I wish I could get a massage every week."

Thirteen felt uneasy. She felt as though she needed to explain the rosy glow in her cheeks, the smile she always wore after therapy, or her eagerness to get sweaty in the middle of a workday. She felt a desperate urge to say something that justified what she was feeling. "Physio's good," she decided on. "Rachel's a great therapist, thanks for pushing me to go see her." Thirteen punctuated her comment with a brief kiss on Foreman's lips before the elevator doors opened. "Let's go. Maybe we'll catch a break and Kutner will finally be in." 

Kutner never came in. After she and Foreman returned from his apartment, Thirteen sat despondently in the corner as House immediately set about trying to solve the puzzle of Kutner's death. While the others tried desperately not to think about it, Thirteen could do nothing else. She tried to convince herself that this wasn't her fault, that none of them had seen this coming. Still she couldn't get over it. Just a few days ago Kutner had been laughing and joking.

Thirteen could barely pay attention when Cuddy stopped by to offer the team her condolences. She made a point to let them know she would accommodate time off or counseling if they needed it, but Thirteen couldn't imagine being at home with nothing to do.

She forced herself to stay busy that day, going to visit Kutner's parents and throwing herself into work. When she finally got home and crawled into bed, she could only stare blankly at the ceiling as a dull numbness spread through her chest. 

After little sleep, Thirteen pulled herself into work the next day, hoping that staying busy would keep her mind from wandering back to unpleasant thoughts. It wasn't often that she wanted to discuss how she was feeling with anyone, but today she truly needed to. As she sat in the office, Thirteen kept glancing between the door and her watch as she waited for Foreman.

"Did you page Foreman?" she asked House.

"He took up Cuddy's offer of time off," he replied, extinguishing any hope she had of talking to Foreman.

Thirteen absentmindedly rattled off a few more quips as she tried to convince House that Kutner hadn't been murdered. She would not indulge him in treating her friend and colleague like another puzzle to be cracked.

She quickly refused his order to track down and berate Kutner's friends and family, "We all want to know why Kutner did it, but we're not going to waste time chasing ghosts." She barely listened as House turned his attention to Taub before ordering them to run tests on the patient.

While Taub did as he was told, Thirteen stole away to the physiotherapy department. If Foreman couldn't even give her the courtesy of a phone call she certainly wasn't going to run to him begging to talk. When she reached the therapy suite she found only a nurse doing paperwork.

"Do you know where I could find Dr. Galvin?" Thirteen asked.

"She took the day off. If it's important I could give you her home number," the nurse replied.

"That's not necessary," Thirteen said as she watched the nurse scribble the phone number down and hand it to her.

"Just take it," the nurse said. "She won't mind."

Thirteen grabbed the paper and shoved it into her pocket as she left. She headed for the parking garage, dialing Rachel's number on her way. As she tucked herself into the privacy of her car the other line picked up. "Hello?" Rachel asked.

"Rachel, it's Remy," Thirteen started cautiously. "I hope this is okay. One of the nurses gave me your number."

"It's fine. Is everything okay?"

Thirteen hesitated; things were far from okay. She tried to keep an even keel to her voice as she spoke again, "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just wondering if I could come talk to you."

Hearing the trepidation in Thirteen's voice, Rachel agreed and quickly rattled off her address. As Thirteen began to drive, however, she found herself heading in the opposite direction. When she finally came to a stop she was parked outside of Foreman's building.

After spending a few minutes convincing herself, Thirteen made her way to Foreman's apartment. The second she knocked on the door she wanted to take it back. She felt as if she should run before it opened. When she was finally face to face with Foreman it was all she could do to stay put. "Remy Hadley," she said, mustering a quick witticism to cover her discomfort. "I also answer to Thirteen. I sometimes sleep with you."

"I know I should have called," Foreman started. "I just need some time."

"Alone?"

"I've worked through a lot of bad stuff in my life. Always done it solo."

Thirteen let her gaze wander from Foreman. That was what she had expected; what she had been afraid of. As she glanced around his apartment she wasn't sure why she had wanted to be there in the first place. She had never felt comfortable in Foreman's apartment. Despite the fact that she didn't want to be alone, there was definitely not where she wanted to be. She felt even worse knowing Foreman didn't want her there.

"So, I should go," she said softly.

"I'm sorry," Forman murmured as she left.

Hot tears streamed down Thirteen's face. When she reached her car she leaned against the steering wheel and tried to calm herself enough to drive. Clearing the tears from her eyes, she sped towards Rachel's.

As she got closer Thirteen started to think going to see Rachel was a bad idea. She tried to find any excuse to turn around. It shouldn't have been so difficult; there were plenty to choose from. Having only known Rachel a month, she was the last person Thirteen should be sharing problems with.

Still, Thirteen found herself in front of Rachel's building and more than compelled to head inside. When she was finally standing outside Rachel's door, Thirteen felt an anxiety similar to what she had felt at Foreman's. This time, though, her fears quickly dissipated when the door opened. Rachel greeted her with the same warm smile that always eased her mind in therapy.

"I was starting to think you'd changed your mind," Rachel said.

"I'm sorry to intrude, I know it's your day off."

"It's okay. I know you wouldn't have asked unless it was important," Rachel stepped away from the door. "Come on in, Remy. I was making tea, would you like some?"

Thirteen nodded and followed Rachel to the kitchen. As she settled at the table Rachel slid a warm mug between her hands. Thirteen sipped at it carefully; as the warm liquid eased down her throat, she realized how cold she was. She focused on her tea, draining the mug quietly as she played for time. Thirteen watched as Rachel waited patiently for her to speak her mind. She glanced around uneasily before finally deciding to say something. "Foreman and I went to look for Kutner yesterday," Thirteen started. "When we went to his apartment, he was on the floor with a gun. There was blood everywhere. All over my clothes and… We couldn't save him."

"I'm so sorry," Rachel told her. She reached across the table and wrapped her hand around Thirteen's.

"I had to get out of the office. Taub's acting like nothing happened, House is treating this like a case, and Foreman just left. I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop seeing it."

They sat in silence a while as Thirteen focused on the warmth of Rachel's hand until she was sure she wouldn't burst into tears. She quickly let her eyes wander around Rachel's apartment. It was not so unlike her own; there were books everywhere and art on the walls. It was as warm and inviting as Rachel herself. "I like your place," Thirteen said as she looked around.

"Thanks."

"You know I always feel weird at Foreman's apartment. His place feels so empty. It's like no one lives there. He barely has any furniture."

"Is that why you came here? Because his place isn't homey?"

Thirteen shook her head in her hand. "He doesn't want me there. I went to see him and he said he'd rather go through this alone."

"Maybe that's what he needs," Rachel said.

"It's not just that," Thirteen insisted. "It usually doesn't bother me that we don't talk, but today I needed someone and he couldn't be there. Now I keep wondering how I can be with him if he won't share anything with me. Our patient was talking about her husband, about how he didn't show affection or spend time with her. She said she stayed with him because she didn't need him to feel for her what she felt for him. I don't want to end up in a relationship like that."

"Today is not the day to question your relationship. Both of you are grieving. You should give it some time."

"I just don't want to be alone," Thirteen admitted.

"You could…" Rachel hesitated. She clenched her jaw tightly against the words forming in her throat. "You could stay here if you like. If you need to."

Rachel could see Thirteen was taken aback by her candor. She watched as a determined look settled on Thirteen's face and silently hoped it meant she would decline the offer.

"I can't," Thirteen replied as she glanced at her watch. "I have to get back to work. Thank you, though, for everything."

"You're welcome," Rachel nodded appreciatively. She took a moment to consider what was on her mind before deciding it was safe to say. "Listen, I won't be in for about a week, so one of the other therapists will take over your next session. If you need someone to talk to, though, you can stop by."

"That sounds… thank you," Thirteen murmured. She blushed as she realized Rachel's hand was still firmly seated over her own. She felt a twinge of regret when Rachel pulled it back and showed her to the door. As she started to leave the warmth of the apartment she tried to cling to the moment as best she could. "Do you want to have dinner? Thursday maybe?"

Rachel smiled, "Well, we are Thursday people. Come over after work, I'll cook."

After saying her goodbyes, Thirteen finally pulled herself away from the door and headed back to her car. Now that she didn't feel so lonesome, the prospect of going back to work suddenly seemed far more bearable.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks so much to Wonderlandbaby and SexyMuppet. Now's the time when I ask my readers for some input. The plan here was to introduce Rachel and her relationship w/13, then go back to the "present." But now I'm loving this so much, I could write this ship forever. So, what would you guys like to read? This chapter is a little short, but I promise the next is longer. Fair warning: this one deals with some sensitive issues.  
***********************************************************

Thursday evening Thirteen was again on her way to see Rachel. She hurried from the hospital, thankful to be leaving at a decent hour for once. When she reached her destination Thirteen parked quickly and pulled herself from her car, anxiously raking through her hair and grabbing a bottle of wine before she went.

As she climbed the stairs to Rachel's apartment she could already discern the smell of their dinner wafting through the air. When Rachel opened the door she wore the same warm smile Thirteen had come to expect.

"It smells great in here."

Rachel took her coat and shrugged humbly. "It's just pasta and Puttanesca sauce. Nothing fancy."

"I brought you this," Thirteen said, handing Rachel the wine. "Nothing fancy." Rachel laughed and reached for the bottle. As she did, Thirteen noticed a bandage covering her left hand. "What happened?"

Rachel snatched her hand to her chest. "I had an accident with the bread knife. It's nothing, really."

"You're bleeding," Thirteen grabbed Rachel by the arm and pulled her into the kitchen. As she unwrapped the bandage Rachel became noticeably agitated.

"Remy, it's fine. I can do it myself."

With her hand exposed, Rachel tried harder to pull her arm back. The more she wriggled, the tighter Thirteen's hold became until she had cleaned the cut enough to examine it. There was a small gouge between Rachel's thumb and forefinger.

"You cut yourself with a bread knife?" Thirteen asked.

"Yeah, I did."

"The edges are clean. A bread knife would make a jagged cut." Thirteen applied pressure to Rachel's hand as she waited for an answer. "You're not going to say anything?"

"Let go of my hand," Rachel insisted.

"I'm not letting go, so you might as well-"

"I did it, okay? I cut my hand," Rachel said tersely.

"Why would you-?"

"I lost a patient. He had ALS, his lungs failed, and today I just couldn't handle it."

"I'm sorry," Thirteen said. She turned her attention back to Rachel's hand. "This might need stitches, you cut yourself pretty deep."

"I didn't, I just…"

"What?" Thirteen asked.

"I got overzealous, I must have torn it," she said sheepishly. When she saw the confused look on Thirteen's face, Rachel attempted to explain. "I do the webbing between my fingers so that if things get overwhelming I can stretch my hand instead of making a new cut. Refreshing the pain helps bring things back into focus." Rachel cast her gaze to the floor and bit her lip. "Fuck, I can't believe I just told you that."

Thirteen watched Rachel for a moment. She was staring intently at the floor, avoiding eye contact. Her injured hand was cold and shaky. Still, she didn't shrink away. After her confession, Thirteen had expected Rachel to look small and delicate, but all she saw was someone brave enough to admit she was hurting. "I understand," she told Rachel quietly. "Before I got help for my Huntington's I was out every night. I would drink, do drugs, sleep around. It was stupid, but it made me feel in control." Thirteen was silent as she finished bandaging Rachel's hand. She didn't want to be a nuisance, but there were still questions plaguing her mind. "Why did you invite me here? With everything going on why would you want me and my problems around?"

"Selfish reasons, really. Partly because having someone or something else to focus on helps. But, also because I'm attracted to you." As Thirteen's eyebrows perked she reconsidered her wording, "I don't mean to say I want you or anything, just that I'm drawn to you. I just hoped that I could help."

Thirteen rolled her eyes, "I wish everyone would stop trying to help. I'm not some fragile little thing that needs to be cared for. I can get along fine without everyone's pity."

"I don't pity you, not by any means. I just think you're in a position where it might be nice to have a shoulder to lean on."

"What about you?" Thirteen asked. "Don't you ever need support?"

"I get along. Same as you."

"Maybe we should help each other get along."

"Remy," Rachel started, shaking her head. "Why are you doing this? Because of my hand?"

"I just hoped that I could help," Thirteen said, repeating Rachel's words.

"That's not necessary."

"I know. I'm just saying I'd like to be there for you. You were there for me," Thirteen hesitated. "I mean, unless you have someone you'd rather-"

"It's not that," Rachel blurted. "Can we just eat? We can worry about everything else another time."

Thirteen nodded and released Rachel's hand. She helped Rachel serve the pasta and get it to the table. "Did you want some wine?"

"Please," Rachel replied. Thirteen filled their glasses and watched while Rachel tasted the wine thoughtfully. "This is great. Thank you, Remy."

Thirteen smiled as she tore into her dinner hungrily. Having subsisted mainly on hospital food and take out, she ate with gusto. She paused only for a moment when she noticed Rachel chuckling to herself.

"What?" Thirteen asked, swallowing a mouthful of pasta.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"It's not that," Thirteen mumbled. "It's just been a while since I've had anything home cooked."

"You don't cook?" Rachel asked.

"I do. Just not when I'm at the hospital until the wee hours of the morning. So, it's been a while."

"If you're not going to eat right therapy will do little good. I'm not going to have give you a crash course in nutrition am I?" Rachel chided.

"No, Dr. Galvin," Thirteen teased. "We should do this every week. Except I should cook. It's the least I can do to repay you for my weekly massage."

"That's kind of absurd since you pay for therapy."

"We can alternate."

Rachel nodded, "Sounds good. For a second, I thought you were going to suggest double dating."

"Not an exciting prospect for you?"

"No," Rachel said emphatically. "Ignoring the fact that my dating life is strictly confined to Friday and Saturday nights, seeing my colleagues with their dates just seems weird."

"Foreman and I went out with Chase and Cameron once."

"Terrifying?"

Thirteen laughed, "It was the most awkward experience of my life."

They laughed together, enjoying the levity for a while. As the two of them finished their meal they talked about every frivolous thing they could think of, strange cases, bad dates, anything that would keep them laughing.

"I'm serious," Rachel said, straightening up. "I think Cuddy is totally hot."

"What are talking about?" Thirteen blurted.

"Come on. She acts so professional and buttoned down, but she never covers her cleavage. She's like a hot headmistress or the Jewish equivalent of a catholic school girl."

"Thanks so much for the images you've left in my brain," Thirteen glanced at her watch regretfully. "Shit, I've got to go, it's late." Thirteen helped Rachel clear the table before she gathered her things. "Dinner was great. I wish I could stay longer."

Rachel shrugged, "Don't worry about it. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You're coming back?"

"Yeah, I think it's best. The sooner the better, right?"

"Good," Thirteen nodded firmly. Before she slipped out the door, she placed a hand firmly on Rachel's shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."


	5. Chapter 5

Hi all! Big thanks to all those who sent reviews. You're great! I've finally figured out how to use FFs formatting, so I hope that will make reading easier from now on.

* * *

Late the next morning Thirteen breezed through the clinic. She alternated with Foreman between seeing patients and searching through files for a new case. She was flipping through another uninteresting file from the nurse's station when Foreman nudged her arm.

"Cuddy," he whispered. "Wonder what she wants."

Thirteen watched Cuddy cross the clinic. She laughed to herself when she remembered what Rachel had said the night before. Suddenly, her boss didn't seem quite as daunting as she usually did. As Cuddy approached the nurse's station Thirteen couldn't help but smile. "Headmistress Cuddy," she greeted.

"Dr. Hadley, Dr. Foreman." Cuddy eyed Thirteen and Foreman strangely before leaving.

"What was that about?" Foreman asked.

"Just an inside joke," Thirteen replied, eyeing the clock. "I've got to go."

Thirteen went to one of the patient rooms and grabbed a caddy, filling it with a suture kit and other supplies. With everything in hand, she bounded off to the physiotherapy department. When she reached Rachel's office Thirteen knocked quickly before entering as Rachel waved her in.

"How's your hand?" Thirteen asked donning gloves.

"Good morning to you too, Remy. I'm fine, thank you," Rachel ragged sarcastically. As she received a serious glare from Thirteen she offered up her hand. "It feels fine, but you probably should suture it." Rachel flinched as Thirteen quickly cleaned the cut and applied anesthetic. As her skin was pierced by the suture needle Rachel looked away. "Damn, I hate stitches," she mumbled.

"How many times have you had to have doctors sew you back up?"

Rachel cringed, "Please don't put it that way. It makes it sound like I'm a ragdoll coming apart at the seams."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I hope I didn't scare you last night."

Thirteen hesitated, "I don't know how to answer that without upsetting you."

"Just be honest."

"You made me think of Kutner."

"Wow," Rachel replied. "That was really honest."

"It's just… you smile like he did. All the time, this warm, reassuring smile. But it's a lie."

"It's not a lie."

"It is. You don't feel it. It's just this incredible show to hide that you're in pain." Thirteen stopped what she was doing and looked at Rachel. "I'm sorry. I know I'm the last person to lecture anybody on being open with people, but I… I don't want to see you like that again. You did scare me."

"It's not a lie," Rachel insisted. "Being reassuring isn't an attempt to convince people that you're okay, it's an attempt to make them feel okay. It is possible to feel concern for others while you feel like shit."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

Thirteen quietly finished suturing Rachel's hand while a concern tumbled over in her mind. "How often do you hurt yourself like this?"

"I haven't cut myself in almost two years. I haven't even felt the urge to do it in a year."

"What do you do when you want to cut yourself?"

"Why are you asking me these questions?"

"I'm not sure," Thirteen admitted. "I hear myself asking these things and I think of how I'd tell someone off if they questioned me like this."

"I can't tell you off, you're stitching up my hand," Rachel joked. "It depends. If I need the pain or the endorphins I grab a fistful of ice until it burns, or eat Vietnamese chili sauce by the spoonful. I had to stop punching walls, though, I ran out of spackle." She smiled as Thirteen chuckled at the last part, "Mostly I run. It calms me down, helps me sleep. What do you do when you want to sleep with strangers or do drugs?"

Thirteen shrugged, "I remember I have a boyfriend and a boss who's a hypocrite when it comes to narcotics."

"And that stops you?"

Thirteen shook her head. "That makes me find another way to cope. I run tests, do paperwork… hope it's Thursday." Thirteen cleared her throat awkwardly before looking back at Rachel. "You're almost done, I just have to bandage you up."

"Okay," Rachel said. She would let herself ignore what had been said if that was what Thirteen wanted.

"You'll have to keep this dry until tomorrow. Think you can do that?"

"Yes," Rachel nodded. "I'm only doing paperwork today. My staffers don't even know I'm here."

Thirteen smiled, "I'm the only one you told?"

"You and Cuddy," Rachel smirked. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but if I don't tell her I don't get paid."

"Stop smiling at me like that," Thirteen demanded as her cheeks burned.

"Stop making me enjoy your company."

Feeling bashful, Thirteen looked away. "I'm going to go see if I can grab an early lunch. You look hungry."

* * *

Down in the cafeteria Thirteen narrowly missed her chance at slipping in and out unnoticed. As soon as she had made her purchase Foreman waved her over to the table he shared with Chase and Cameron. When she sat down Foreman grabbed hold of her hand under the table.

"Two sandwiches, Remy?" Foreman asked looking at the food she held.

"I need the calories to keep up with my workouts," Thirteen lied.

"Whatever you've been doing, keep it up." Cameron started. "You look great."

"Thanks," Thirteen muttered quickly. "I'm going to go catch up on some paperwork, so I'll see you all later."

She jumped up before Foreman had a chance to say anything and made her way back to Rachel's office.

Thirteen quickly slipped through the door and pulled a chair to Rachel's desk. She handed Rachel her sandwich before digging into her own. While she settled herself she noticed Rachel fidgeting with her bandage.

"Don't make me put you in a cast," Thirteen teased. "Eat your lunch."

"Thank you, Remy. For the sandwich, the stitches."

"Don't mention it," Thirteen said, thinking for a moment about how to continue the conversation. "Why do you cut yourself? I mean, what made you start?"

"Why are you so interested in asking me questions today?" Rachel asked.

"Am I bothering you?"

"No. I'm just curious about your motives."

"I want to get to know you."

"Now I'm bothered," Rachel said sternly. "Why now? Before last night you showed no interest in getting to know me."

Thirteen paused for a moment. She played with her sandwich while she considered her admission, "You weren't approachable then."

"How's that?"

"You were perfect. You were supportive, patient, and kind. Not to mention smart, funny, hyper-successful, attractive-"

"I get it, Remy," Rachel laughed.

"You're a great therapist, but you're a little intimidating on the social side of things."

"I'm far from perfect. I'm a mess."

"You're not a mess," Thirteen said softly. "At least not any more than anyone else. You're just more honest about it."

"What's so appealing about admitting I'm screwed up?"

"I spend most of my time holding things back," Thirteen sighed. "Making a connection with someone without feeling the need to do that is freeing."

Rachel looked at Thirteen hesitantly, "It's hard not to tell you things when you're so candid."

"You started it," Thirteen joked.

"My parents were… Well, my mom died in a car accident," Rachel finally answered.

Thirteen looked at her solemnly, "I'm sorry. I know how hard that is."

Not being able to face Thirteen, Rachel stared into her desk. "It wasn't her death that was hard, really. It was after. My father didn't deal with it well. I think when my mom died, things got too real for him."

"What do you mean?"

"Having to be there everyday and care for us, I think it was too much for him. He moved us to New York about a month after the funeral. Then he totally immersed himself in his work. He was never really home."

"That must have been hard. I know I wouldn't have made it without my dad."

Rachel shook her head, "It was probably best. I started hurting myself after the funeral and the more my father was home, the more I would do it."

Thirteen didn't understand. She had often fought with her own father while growing up, but he had never made her feel like hurting herself. "Having your father around made you cut yourself?" she chanced.

"In a way. Having him there was weird; he was practically a stranger. He couldn't deal with our grief so he ignored us. When grief turned to anger, we started yelling at each other, he and my brother got in a fight. There was just so much going on that I didn't know how to handle. Translating it into physical pain was the only way I could make it make sense."

"But it didn't help?"

"Not really, it was just a stopgap. It relieved some pressure, but there was always more."

"From your dad?" Thirteen asked.

"Always. He's a high profile businessman. He was so concerned about his career and his image. He was always taking us to office parties, or showing us off at country clubs. If it wasn't that, it was pressure to do well in school, or to be involved in the community, or to be socialites. We had to be the perfect family. Trying to be perfect takes it toll. I'd rather be a mess," Rachel huffed.

"What did you do then?" Thirteen asked.

"For a while I tried so hard to fuck it all up. I went clubbing, did drugs. I'd come home drunk with dates, but none of it worked. Then I really got angry, and started trying to see how much of his money I had to blow through to get to him."

"Did it work?"

"Nope," Rachel sighed. "He didn't get upset until I was caught in a country club steam room with a client's daughter."

"I take it that did the trick?"

"Too well. He sent me to a Catholic boarding school." Rachel quickly started to feel on edge. Thirteen's questions were beginning to hit too close to home. "Can we change the subject? Anything but parents or self-harm."

Thirteen nodded, quickly trying to think of something to ease Rachel's mind.

"Does Catholic school have anything to do with your attraction to Cuddy?"

Rachel laughed hard, nearly choking on the drink she had been sipping. "I suppose it might," she said giggling.

Feeling pleased with herself, Thirteen smiled broadly. "That must've put a damper on your partying."

"Hardly. That school was like a nightclub with books. The boys were easy and the girls were either gay or really, really curious."

"Sounds like a bisexual playground."

Rachel smiled coyly, "I only used a few bodies like jungle gyms. It gets old very quickly, though. Things move faster in that kind of environment. All of a sudden, people want to move into your dorm and have a serious relationship."

"What do you have against relationships?"

"Nothing, I just don't think they're for me," Rachel explained. "I'm a mess, and I like it that way, but I wouldn't want to rub off on anyone else."

Thirteen smiled at how much she related to Rachel's position. "They find you, though. No matter how screwed up you are, sooner or later you find someone you fit with."

"Is that how things are with you and Foreman? You fit?"

"I don't know. We've only been together a couple of months," Thirteen hedged. "So, where were you from before you moved to New York?"

"Belmont, Massachusetts," Rachel answered.

"Really? I'm from Newton. You only lived twenty minutes from me."

"So if I had ever gone to a football game I'd have seen you hanging off the quarterback's arm?"

"Please," Thirteen scoffed. "The closest I got to a football game was using them as a cover so I could sneak off to clubs."

Rachel laughed, "You sound like me and my brother."

"What's he like?"

"You want to know about my brother?" Rachel asked, furrowing her brow. When Thirteen nodded eagerly she tried her best to summarize her sibling. "He's great; he's everything an older brother should be. He's always looking out for me, always there for me."

"I always wished I had an older brother."

"I'll give you his number," Rachel replied. "I'm sure he'd enjoy spreading his brotherly love."

Thirteen laughed whole-heartedly for a moment before her pager interrupted. "Recess is over," she said, reading the page. "We must have a new case. I'll see you?"

"Sure thing," Rachel agreed. She smiled fondly as she watched Thirteen leave, already looking forward to the next time they would see each other.


	6. Chapter 6

Hi all! I'm so glad you all seem to be enjoying the story. I've gotten a lot of great feedback, so thank you all. You have no idea how much I love reviews! Two things: 1) I hope there's not too big of a jump between this chap and the last, but I think it's okay. 2) I have to give you guys some short chapters for a while. Sorry it's a continuity thing. Hope you like it!

* * *

Most of the summer went by before Thirteen had time to spend with Rachel outside of therapy. After weeks of begging, and a considerable amount of arm-twisting, she had convinced Rachel to let her run outside for a session. She tried to be patient as Rachel drove her to a location she insisted on keeping a secret.

"I'm only doing this because you're my last patient today," Rachel insisted.

"Sure you are," Thirteen said drolly.

"Have you been able to keep to your workouts now that you're in the ER?"

"For the most part. Where are we going?"

"A place I really love," Rachel told her, a wide grin crossing her lips. "So, a stag party, a skinless ballerina, and an alien hand. Did I miss anything?" Rachel asked, recounting their conversation.

"You forgot the part where my boss was carted off to a mental hospital."

"Oh, and you tipped a stripper with your boyfriend's money. What charmed life you lead, Remy Hadley."

"I'm sad to say that was the high point of the month." As Rachel pulled into their destination and parked, Thirteen looked around. "We're at Princeton."

"This is my favorite place to run," Rachel said, pulling a bag from her car and leading Thirteen out to the track.

While she began to stretch, Thirteen watched Rachel look out on the track nostalgically. "You're really fond of this place aren't you?"

"I am. I have a lot of memories here. I ran the high hurdles one year, and over there," Rachel said, pointing to the far end of the track. "Is where I tore a gash in my knee after I failed to clear one of the hurdles."

Thirteen winced as she pictured Rachel's fall, "How bad was it?"

"It was okay, just a really big scrape. But over there," Rachel pointed to a trainer's shed to the side of the field with a smirk. "That's where one of my teammates made me feel much better."

"Lucky you," Thirteen scoffed. She watched as Rachel pulled something from her bag. "What is that?"

"Heart rate monitor," Rachel said, unfolding the elastic band that served as the device's sensor.

"I am not wearing that thing, Rachel. There's nothing wrong with my heart, I'm fine."

"I know you are, and when I go back to the hospital and do your chart, I'll have proof of that." Rachel watched as Thirteen stood defiantly with her hands on her hips. "Don't be so stubborn. I'm breaking protocol here. I don't need to give Cuddy any reason to suspect that you weren't in the therapy suite today. She's already in a snit with House gone. Lift your shirt, please."

Thirteen did as she was asked and allowed Rachel to fasten the device around the top of her ribcage. When Rachel's hand brushed against the sensitive skin over her ribs Thirteen's breath hitched.

"So, what happened with you and the teammate," she asked, trying to focus.

"We dated for a while, but it got messy. She wanted more than I was ready for."

"Have you ever had a real relationship?"

Rachel pulled Thirteen's shirt down before attaching the watch-like receiver to her own arm. "I've had relationships. I'm seeing someone now."

"But you don't expect it to last long." Thirteen frowned as Rachel shook her head, "What is it, a monogamy thing?"

"I'm not unfaithful," Rachel shot. "It's not about sex. It's just me."

"Explain it to me," Thirteen pushed. "From what I can tell, you'd be a great girlfriend."

"I'm a great girlfriend until I think I could fall in love with someone. I don't really know how to deal with letting someone get that close, and I don't like the idea of putting that much trust in one person. I'm only really built for distance on the track," Rachel shrugged uncomfortably. "You should start running."

Thirteen nodded firmly and started her workout. It took her a while to find her stride. She kept glancing back at Rachel, taking in how uncomfortable she looked.

* * *

It wasn't long before Thirteen finished her run and moved on to her other exercises. She became concerned as Rachel monitored her progress without any of their usual banter. Thinking hard, Thirteen tried to find a way out of the silence between them. She wondered if she had finally gotten too personal.

"Did I upset you before?"

"What?" Rachel asked, looking up from her clipboard.

"You were awfully quiet. I wanted to make sure I didn't get too close with my questions."

"You didn't. I was just thinking," Rachel started. "Although, one of these days you'll have to answer some questions for me."

"How about tonight? I owe you dinner."

"Sounds good. Oh, damn it," Rachel quickly groaned. "I completely forgot. I have to meet my boyfriend back here. The Track and Field championships are tonight."

"Another time then."

"You and Foreman should come with us," Rachel said eagerly. "I know it's really last minute, but I'd like it if you came."

"Wouldn't that make it a double date?"

Rachel smirked, "Fine, then. You won't get to see me make a fool of myself while I cheer."

"I didn't say I wouldn't go," Thirteen said, smiling back.

"Good. We should get back. "

Thirteen and Rachel slowly walked back to the car, taking their time, enjoying the weather and fresh air. They piled into the car and headed back to the hospital, falling into a comfortable silence as Rachel drove.

When they reached the hospital and made their way to Rachel's office, Thirteen noticed her still-bandaged hand.

"Your stitches should be ready to come out," she said. "I'll wash up and meet you in the ER."

Rachel nodded and watched as Thirteen wheeled off to the locker rooms. She quickly looked over Thirteen's records while she waited, a small smile crossing her lips when she compared the day's results with those from a few weeks ago. The smile spread into a full-on grin as she bounded off to the ER.

* * *

As soon as Thirteen eyed Rachel beaming across the ER, she burst into a broad smile of her own.

"I asked you to stop smiling at me like that," Thirteen opened. She guided Rachel over to a bed and drew the privacy curtain around them. "What's with you?"

"I let you out on the track and you start showing off."

"What are you talking about?" Thirteen asked, unwrapping Rachel's bandage.

"You ran five miles today. That's the farthest you've ever run. You're even pacing at almost eight minutes per mile." Rachel watched Thirteen turn a deep shade of red, "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," Thirteen said. She quickly removed Rachel's sutures and cleaned the area, a frown crossing her face. "Is it weird or tacky that there were thirteen stitches in your hand?"

Rachel snatched her hand back in surprise and counted the red marks left on her hand. "That depends. Did you mean to brand me?" she asked teasingly.

"Yeah," Thirteen deadpanned. "Just a little something to remember me by."

"You're plenty memorable."

Rachel smiled again and Thirteen had to swallow against the fluttering feeling starting in her stomach. "That won't bother your boyfriend?"

Rachel shook her head, "We've only been dating for a month. He gets no say over whose symbols are etched into my skin."

"What's he like, your guy?" Thirteen asked while she placed a small bandage over Rachel's wound.

"He's sweet, funny. I met him at the track, he's a professor at the university."

"Did you take him out to the trainer's shed yet?"

Rachel hopped up from the bed and headed for the door before her cheeks started to flush. "I've got to stop telling you things. I'll see you at the meet," she called back to Thirteen.


	7. Chapter 7

This chapter's still on the short side, but the next one will be quite long, so sit tight! Thanks as always to my reviewers. Hope you like it. P.S. The Tiger's tails I mention are real, and people do look that ridiculous.

* * *

That evening with Foreman at her side, Thirteen waded through the throngs of people amassed in front of Princeton's stadium. As they pushed towards the ticket booths, Thirteen bickered with Foreman over his choice of clothing.

"She's going to be mad at you," she fussed.

Foreman looked down at his light blue oxford then over to Thirteen's navy, red, and white plaid shirt. "I'm rooting for my school. If anything, she'll be mad at you."

"Why me?"

"I'll let Rachel explain all the things wrong with your shirt, but at the very least you should have sided with Princeton."

"How does that make sense?" Thirteen challenged. "I don't follow Princeton."

"Rachel invited you. If you don't have a team to side with, you side with your friend's team," Foreman explained. "Since when are the two of you such good friends, anyway?"

"We're not, really. We hang out, we talk. I can tell her things."

"You can't tell me things?"

"That's not what I meant," Thirteen told him. She let out a breath of thanks as she finally spotted Rachel. She quickly looked over the man by her side. He was tall and handsome, with thick, black hair and olive skin. The only flaw she could find in him was his glasses. The way he stood with his arm around Rachel's shoulders made Thirteen's jaw clench. "There they are."

Rachel had spotted Thirteen and Foreman as well and quickly rushed to greet them. She pulled them each into a friendly hug and gave Thirteen a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm glad you could make it. This is my boyfriend, Alex Moore," Rachel introduced. "Alex, meet Eric Foreman and Remy Hadley." As everyone exchanged handshakes and polite smiles, Rachel finally took notice of Thirteen's outfit. "Remy, please tell me you have another shirt."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Thirteen looked at Rachel. She wore a black and orange hoodie with "Princeton" running down the sleeve. "Eric is wearing blue, too."

"Light blue, Columbia's color. Which is fine because that's his school and no one really cares about Columbia," Rachel joked, eliciting a small laugh from Foreman. "You, on the other hand, are wearing the colors of not one but four of Princeton's rival schools."

"I tried to tell her," Foreman shrugged.

"How could I possibly offend you four ways with one shirt?" Thirteen quipped.

"You're wearing the school colors Penn, Rutgers, Harvard, and Yale." Rachel unzipped her hoodie and handed it to Thirteen, "Wear this."

Thirteen slipped the jacket on, flashing an annoyed look as she caught sight of the second shirt Rachel had on. It too was black and orange with the school name emblazoned across the chest. "There is such a thing as too much school spirit."

"Yes," Rachel agreed. "But it looks like that."

Thirteen followed Rachel's finger to a man wearing a Princeton jersey, tiger striped face paint, and a plush tiger's tale dangling from his pants. She tried in vain not to gawk as they headed into the stadium.

* * *

An hour later, Rachel was keeping true to her promise of cheering embarrassingly. In her borrowed Tigers attire, Thirteen found the spirit was contagious. She yelled so loudly for the Princeton runners that she was sure she would give her companions hearing damage. When the heat ended and the noise of the crowd subsided, Thirteen turned to Rachel.

"Can you show me where to get a drink?" she asked, still yelling a bit.

Rachel frowned apologetically, "The next event is starting in a minute."

Thirteen looked to Foreman who seemed just as absorbed in the meet as Rachel. Seeing her frustration, Alex tapped her shoulder from behind. "There's no pulling them away from this," he said, gesturing for her to follow him. He looked back to the spots they had found directly off the track, "We need someone to hold our places anyway."

Alex led Thirteen through the stadium to the crowded concession stands. As they settled in for their wait in line he looked to Thirteen questioningly.

"How long have you known Rachel?" he asked.

"A few months now."

"So, you know what she's like? The two of you talk?"

"Yes," Thirteen said cautiously. She wasn't sure where this was heading, but she was already uncomfortable.

"What does it take to get close to her?"

"By close you mean what exactly?"

"Well, we talk and she shares things with me, but she always keeps me at a distance. How do I get her to let me in?"

"It sounds like she's already let you in," Thirteen muttered. She was quickly becoming annoyed. She would give just about anything to have Foreman share things with her while Alex was complaining because Rachel shared too little. "What more do you want?"

"She shares ideas with me, she talks about her work, but I don't know anything about her life. I don't know what's in her heart."

"She's either going to open up to you or she's not. There's nothing I can tell you that will make a difference." Thirteen rolled her eyes and looked away. She hoped that Alex would give up his rambling, but she had no such luck.

"When we started dating, she said she only wanted something casual, but I think we could be more than that. I just think if she-"

"Listen," Thirteen snapped. "Rachel is my friend and I don't feel comfortable talking about her like this. If you want things to change between the two of you, you should talk to her. I don't know how to help you."

Alex only nodded silently as they continued to wait.

* * *

While Alex and Thirteen were getting refreshments, Foreman stood with Rachel on the sidelines. He shuffled his feet uneasily in the grass before clearing his throat.

"Something on your mind, Foreman?" Rachel asked.

Foreman shook his head, "It's nothing." He continued shifting his weight from foot to foot until Rachel could no longer ignore him.

"You can either come out with what's bothering you or continue fidgeting and distract us both from the meet."

"Do you and Remy talk much?" Foreman asked.

"Some."

"How's she doing?"

"She's great. She broke five miles today. Her endurance-"

"That's not what I meant," Foreman interrupted. "Never mind."

"You see her more than I do. I would think you'd know anything before I would."

"She's shutting me out," Foreman said worriedly. "I don't know what's going on, but she doesn't seem happy. I was hoping you might know what was going on."

Rachel studied the look of concern on Foreman's face before answering. "All I can tell is that she seems frustrated."

"She hasn't mentioned anything specific?"

"No," Rachel said quietly. She tried to reabsorb herself in the event, but Foreman continued trying to pull answers from her.

"What do the two of you talk about?"

"Whatever comes up. Work, life."

"That's all you can give me?" Foreman pressed.

"You set me up with Remy to help her manage her disease. Now I'm her therapist and friend, and both of those positions mean that anything she tells me has to stay between us. I'm sorry."

Foreman ceased his questioning long enough to glance back and notice Thirteen sauntering towards him. He tried to disguise the troubled look he wore with an uneasy smile, but Thirteen saw through him.

"You okay?" she asked.

"It's nothing. Columbia lost the heat," Foreman lied. "I'm going to get some air."

Thirteen spun around wildly as Foreman blew past her. She trailed behind him as he stormed away from the field and out of the stadium. "Eric!" she called as he finally came to a stop. "What's your problem?"

"I told you I needed some air," Foreman huffed.

"It's an outdoor event. Come on, the next race is about to start."

"Did you say something about us to Rachel?"

"That's what this is about? You're worried I'm badmouthing you to my friend?"

"I asked her what was going on with you," Foreman said, his voice sounding agitated. "She gave me a quick answer, then said she couldn't say anything more."

"Which means what, exactly?" Thirteen demanded.

"Which means there was more to tell. Which means you're holding out on me. You can share things with her, but not me?"

"We don't talk!" Thirteen yelled.

"We talk all the time."

"Yeah, about work, or books, or any other meaningless shit you can come up with. Nothing is ever personal with you. Why shouldn't I confide in Rachel?"

"Why are we even together then?" Foreman shot. "You certainly don't seem to need me."

"Not right now. Go home, Eric."

Thirteen stared Foreman down until he turned and left. She paced back and forth for a moment, trying to calm herself before heading back into the stadium. After a few minutes, she sat down on the curb and pressed her head to her knees with a frustrated sigh. She listened to the crowds cheering for a while before deciding to give Rachel a call.

"Remy?" Rachel answered. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. I'm going to call a cab and head home, I just wanted to let you know."

"What happened to Foreman?"

"I asked him to leave," Thirteen replied.

"Hold on, I'll be right out."

"You don't have to-"

"Stay put," Rachel insisted. "I'll take you home."

It only took a few moments for Rachel to meet Thirteen outside the gate. Thirteen quickly jumped to her feet. She shoved her hands in her pockets and toed the curb anxiously while she tried to think of something that didn't sound paltry. "I'm sorry to ruin your night," she came up with. "You should go back inside, be with Alex."

"Alex understands."

"No, you don't have to look after me. I'll be fine."

Rachel shook her head firmly, "I'm taking you home, so you can stop arguing. We're looking after each other, remember?"


	8. Chapter 8

Update day! I almost couldn't wait until Friday this week. I spent quite a few late nights/early mornings trying to get this part right, so I'm really excited to hear what you guys think. One question: would you guys like to see more chapters this length or is what I've been doing up until now good? The only problems I'd run into is that it takes we a week to write and edit something thins length and I try to stay at least one chapter ahead of you guys. So which is it? As always, thanks to my reviewers. And SexyMuppet, you rock!

* * *

  
Rachel managed to lead Thirteen to her car without any more protests. With the exception of Thirteen's directions, they made the short drive to her apartment in silence. When they arrived, Thirteen showed Rachel in, quickly giving her a tour. "Here's the living room, and my office," she said, pointing the way. "Kitchen, my room, and the bathroom."

"It's beautiful," Rachel remarked as she looked over the many windows and skylights that covered the walls. "It's like a greenhouse with brick."

"Thanks. I'm going to order some food, if you want to stay. It's the least I can do for dragging you away from your boyfriend and your favorite sport."

"Sure, whatever you like," Rachel said absentmindedly. While Thirteen phoned for takeout, Rachel gazed out one of the large windows. She didn't notice when Thirteen ended the call and sidled up next to her.

"Something on your mind?" Thirteen asked, causing Rachel to jump.

"Just thinking. If I did anything to upset Foreman, I'm sorry."

"What did he say to you?"

Rachel hesitated, "He was concerned. He said you were shutting him out, that you didn't seem happy, and he wanted to know if you had talked to me about it."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him you seemed frustrated, but that anything you might have told me was in confidence." Rachel watched as Thirteen nodded to herself with a sudden look of understanding. "What?"

"He's upset that I confide in you over him."

"Sorry," Rachel apologized again.

"It's not your fault. Although, it must be interrogation day because Alex asked me about you."

"Why would he–"

"He wanted to know how to get closer to you," Thirteen told her. She tried in vain to hold in what came next, "Why are you with him? He looks like a librarian."

"A librarian that listens to The Smiths and works out five times a week."

"He's meek, boring."

"That's why I picked him. He's smart, he's sweet, but there's very little chance of me falling for him."

Thirteen shook her head, trying to understand Rachel's logic. "So you don't care about him at all? It doesn't bother you that you'll eventually hurt him?"

"I care about him, but I've been very clear that it isn't serious. How does that lead to me hurting him?"

"You're acting just like Foreman," Thirteen spat sharply. "You're shutting Alex out. I thought you were only a bad girlfriend when you were in love."

"Do not take your anger with Foreman out on me," Rachel shot back. "The situations between you and Foreman and me and Alex are completely different. Besides the way I hear it, you're shutting him out."

"The way you hear it? You know why I confide in you instead of him. I can't talk to him."

"And I'm not going to talk to Alex. I've known him a month, I have no real connection with him."

Thirteen took a deep breath and tried to stop sniping at Rachel. "I know what it's like to be in a relationship with someone who refuses to let themselves get close to you. Don't do that to him. He's a nice guy."

Rachel quirked an eyebrow at Thirteen, "You just called him a librarian."

"He's still nice. He just wants to know you."

"I don't want him to know me. It's inevitable that I'll break up with him."

"Then you should do it soon," Thirteen added. "Before he gets his hopes up."

Rachel turned back to the window, "Why do you care?"

Thirteen dropped her gaze to the windowsill, picking at the wood as she struggled to voice her thoughts, "I care about you. I don't get why you'd want to be with someone you know you can't really care for."

Rachel shrugged, "I'm getting better at avoiding love altogether."

"What's the point of that? Why would you deprive yourself of loving someone, of having them love you?"

"If you don't let things get too deep, hurt feelings are kept to a minimum. I don't know how to be in love. I can feel it, but the more I try to let myself be with someone, the more I push them away. Whenever I open up to another person, my insecurities and fears trample all over them."

"You've opened up to me," Thirteen said. She placed her hand over Rachel's on the windowsill and inched closer to her. "I'm still standing."

"We're friends. It's not the same."

Rachel laced her fingers between Thirteen's and moved closer, intent on her parted lips. Thirteen responded in kind, leaning in until the ring of the doorbell jolted them apart. She snatched her hand away from Rachel's and moved to the door. 

While Thirteen answered the door, Rachel leaned her head against the cool, textured glass, hoping the sensation would clear her mind. She vaguely listened to the sounds of rustling bags and clinking plates coming from the kitchen.

"Are you hungry?" Thirteen asked cautiously.

Rachel felt her stomach growl forcefully as the aroma of food reached her, but it quickly wavered at the timbre of Thirteen's voice. She pulled herself from the window to find Thirteen gazing at her hopefully. Chewing on her lip as she walked, Rachel joined Thirteen at the table, perching herself on one of the tall chairs.

"I hope you like Chinese," Thirteen said.

"I do."

Thirteen scooped helpings of noodles and vegetables onto two plates and handed one to Rachel. The two of them began to eat quietly, occupying themselves with their dinner. Rachel barely looked up from her plate until Thirteen caught her eye. She was struggling with her chopsticks, only managing to grab a single piece of food at a time. As Rachel stifled a laugh, Thirteen glared at her.

"What?"

"You can't use chopsticks. It's cute."

"I can use them," Thirteen insisted. "Just not very well."

"I'll bet that just kills you," Rachel teased. She leaned over and grabbed Thirteen's hand, positioning the chopsticks properly. "Hold the top one like this, and keep the bottom one still with your middle and ring fingers."

Thirteen tested out the new method, successfully grabbing a mess of noodles and shoving them into her mouth. Rachel choked on a laugh as she wiped away a smudge of sauce from Thirteen's chin.

"Thanks," Thirteen mumbled. "I don't take you for a takeout queen. How'd you get so good with these?"

"I spent a few months in Asia last summer. China, India, Burma, and Thailand. It was pretty hard to get a fork in most places."

"That sounds amazing," Thirteen marveled.

"It was. It was the most amazing trip of my life."

"That's what I need," Thirteen sighed. "Time far, far away from here."

Rachel smiled, "If you could go anywhere, where would you go?"

"Asia sounds good."

"Copycat."

"I'm serious," Thirteen laughed. "Just Thailand, though. I've always wanted to go there."

"You should go," Rachel said earnestly. "I could make a mile-long list of places for you to check out, and not a single tourist trap."

"I'm sure that will happen real soon. Once I deal with my overbearing boyfriend, and my all-consuming job."

"Screw all that. You get plenty of vacation time, when you're ready to go, just go."

"I guess I should do things like that while I'm still able," Thirteen said, her voice trailing off.

Rachel gently grabbed hold of Thirteen's hand, "Self-pity doesn't become you. You're strong, you're healthy–"

"But the amount of time I'll actually stay that way is limited."

"If you let yourself focus on how much time you may lose, you're wasting the time you still have," Rachel said softly. "Besides, I'm your doctor. I make sure my patients have years to experience all the amazing, crazy things they dream about."

Rachel smiled and Thirteen's cheeks began to burn. She tried to cover her mouth as it pulled into a smirk of its own.

"Stop smiling at me like that!" Thirteen cried.

"You keep saying that. I can't smile at you any other way, this is how I smile," Rachel insisted.

"Your smile makes me smile. Stop it."

"God, that must be hard for you," Rachel let her smile broaden as she toyed with Thirteen. "Expressing yourself in some way other than a scowl or a sarcastic comment."

"Stop grinning at me or I won't tell you anything else," Thirteen challenged. She watched while Rachel let her smile fade and waved her hand, giving Thirteen the go-ahead. "What would you like to know?"

"What's your dad like?"

"He's great, we get along really well. I only get to see him every so often, but we talk a lot."

"Uh-uh, you can't do that," Rachel chastised.

"What?"

"You can't summarize. How the hell am I supposed to get to know you if you summarize?"

"You did the same thing when you told me about your brother."

"You didn't ask anything more," Rachel pointed out. "Now spill."

Thirteen rolled her eyes, "What do you want me to say? I'm daddy's little girl. He still acts like I'm in college or something. He calls to check up on me, sends me care packages when I'm sick."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Thirteen said, shaking her head quickly. "I keep thinking that I should find it annoying, but it's just nice. Last time I went home, he and my stepmother actually did my laundry before I left."

"That's sweet."

"We got pretty close after my mom died. I think he was trying to make up for time we couldn't spend together while he was caring for her. Anything I wanted to do, we did. As long as I wasn't too busy being a bratty teenager."

"Are we talking normal obnoxious teen stuff or something more?"

"I didn't specialize. If there was teen drama to be found, I found it," Thirteen laughed. "My dad was on top of it, though. He saw a therapist with me when my mom died, he grounded me when I snuck out, and he made sure to spend a lot of time with me when he remarried."

"You weren't happy your dad found someone else?" Rachel asked.

"Not at first. I saw them together once, when my mom was still alive," Thirteen began. "I hated him for being unfaithful to her. It took me a while, but eventually I understood it. They met at the worst time, but she was there when my dad needed her."

Rachel nodded while she thought of another question to ask. She had to make it a good one; Thirteen could decide to stop being so talkative at any moment. "What did your dad say when you told him you were bisexual?"

"I didn't," Thirteen said simply.

"Really? Why?" Rachel asked, leaning forward with keen interest.

"My dad's been through a lot with me, I didn't want to add another issue to the table. It took a long time for things to be good with us and I wanted it to stay simple and easy."

"I'm guessing you didn't tell him about your Huntington's either." Thirteen shook her head. "So, what do you talk to him about?"

"Everything else. Work, hobbies, if I'm dating a guy worth mentioning I'll bring him up," Thirteen looked to Rachel furtively. "What about you? What's your coming out story?"

"I'm going to need to be a lot less sober before I can go there."

Thirteen smirked and dashed off. She quickly bounded back with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a corkscrew. She filled a glass and slid it to Rachel, watching, half-impressed, as the glass was emptied before she had filled her own.

"I don't technically have a story," Rachel said. "I was pretty open about it, so my family knew."

"You needed wine to admit that?" Thirteen asked, pouring more wine.

"I wasn't done," Rachel said. She started on her second glass, imbibing more slowly. "It wasn't really an issue until the sauna girl."

"Was your dad accepting before then?"

"No, I wouldn't put it that way," Rachel corrected. "He acted the way he did with everything; unless it affected him, he ignored it. The sauna girl and I had been dating for a while, and he knew. He just didn't feel the need to do anything until other people knew. Then he was embarrassed."

"What was it like afterwards? Before he sent you away?"

"It was a nightmare. Someone spread the story to the newspaper and once word got out, it turned into a scandal," Rachel sighed. "Being open about your sexuality is one thing, but having your budding sex life plastered all over the society pages is another. At sixteen, no less. I was actually relieved when he sent me off to school."

"Did you and your dad ever get back on good terms? What are things like between you now?"

"There isn't anything between us now. We don't talk, and I rarely see him. The summer before med school, I tried to patch things up, but it takes two willing people to do that."

"What's that like, not having a relationship with your dad?" Thirteen asked.

"It's sad," Rachel murmured. "There's love somewhere in there, but I think I remind him of the things he hates about himself."

"What could he possibly see in you that makes him so distant?"

"Overall, he thinks I'm selfish. He thinks that refusing to choose–as he puts it–that being so candid about being bisexual is something I do to further my own interests. I suppose that reminds him of how much he put his career and his happiness above ours."

"That makes sense if you don't think about for more than a few seconds," Thirteen scoffed. "Is there anything using a less warped sort of logic?"

"It's his logic, I don't know. He mistakes me for problems with himself. He doesn't know how to let people get close, he takes his moods out on others, he's got this angry side to him that is just terrifying. So, when he'd see me being distant, or acting moody, or self-destructive, it was a reminder of everything that went wrong," Rachel paused, her voice beginning to falter. "It freaks me out."

"What do you mean?" Thirteen asked.

"We're a lot alike. But I don't want to treat people like he treated my mom or my brother and I. I don't ever want to make anyone I care about feel the way my father makes me feel. I don't want to be like him."

Thirteen leaned over and gathered Rachel into a hug. She stayed quiet for a moment, running her hand in long, soft circles against Rachel's back. "You're not like him. The more I get to know you, the more I see this bold, honest, kind person." Thirteen pulled back to face Rachel. She rested her forehead against Rachel's temple, and as she spoke, her lips grazed Rachel's cheek. "That's who you are; that's the side of you that matters."

Having Thirteen so close sent shivers down Rachel's spine. Her heart pounded in her chest, drowning out any thought other than how much she wanted to stay wrapped in Thirteen's arms. After a few moments Rachel pulled Thirteen closer. She trailed her hands along Thirteen's back, memorizing every dip and curve. She swept one hand up to Thirteen's neck while the other came to rest at her hip. Rachel turned and looked into Thirteen's teal eyes, biting her lip in trepidation. She stared back wistfully, letting her thumb ghost over Thirteen's cheek before she pulled away completely. Thirteen could only stare in astonishment as Rachel quickly removed herself from the table and leaned against another window.

"That's it?" Thirteen gasped.

"Extolling my virtues is not going to change how I feel. It doesn't matter which side you see, it's not the only side there is."

"It does matter!" Thirteen insisted. "You spend your time trying to avoid hurting people. That's just as much who you are as anything else. You can't spend your life avoiding feeling–"

"Yes, I can. Until I can be sure I won't suck anyone else into my miserable bullshit, I have no business in a relationship," Rachel said desperately.

"But you can't be sure. No one can ever be sure that they won't hurt someone. All you can do is find someone you're willing to try to spare from pain."

"Oh, I can try?" Rachel sneered. "No one ever gets hurt when you try."

"Why is it all on you?" Thirteen asked. "A relationship takes two people. You work to keep each other safe." Thirteen closed the gap between them and grabbed Rachel's hand, clasping it tightly.

"I don't know how to do that. You should be with Foreman," Rachel said quietly. She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

"Foreman?" Thirteen sputtered. "Are you serious?"

"He loves you."

"No, he doesn't. He thinks he does, he tries to, but he doesn't."

"You care about him," Rachel said, already knowing how trivial that sounded at the moment.

Thirteen gripped Rachel's hand even tighter, "I care about you, too. And it's a lot different than what I feel for Foreman."

Rachel wrenched her hand free of Thirteen's and headed for the door, "I should go."

"Wait!" Thirteen called. She ran after Rachel, catching her by the arm before she had a chance to slip out the door. "You can't just ignore what's happening between us."

"Yes, I can," Rachel insisted. "If I get involved with you, I will hurt you."

"You can't know that. This could work."

"It won't work," Rachel said. She pulled herself away from Thirteen and began inching out the door, already regretting what she was about to say. "Go back to your boyfriend, Remy."

Rachel disappeared hastily down the hall. Thirteen closed the door with a heavy slam and walked to her couch, flopping down on it heavily. She brought her knees to her chest and held her head in her hands. As the soft fabric of her garment brushed her face, Thirteen realized she was still wrapped in Rachel's hoodie. She quickly pulled it off, hoping to keep Rachel's scent from enveloping her completely. After tossing the hoodie aside, Thirteen stormed off to bed knowing Rachel's essence already clung to her skin.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks as usual to my reviewers. I'm going to try and upload longer bits from now on. I've got to work hard for those reviews!

* * *

Thirteen tore through her apartment in search of her phone. She rushed to the couch, looking between the cushions and pushing aside the blanket she had curled up in the night before. As she pulled a pillow back, Thirteen came across Rachel's hoodie. She picked it up, swearing as her phone tumbled out from under it and onto the floor. She ran her fingers over the fabric before briefly bringing it to her nose. Nearly two weeks had passed since she'd tossed it there, but it still smelled of Rachel. She tucked it into her handbag, grabbed her phone, and hurried out.

Taking shortcuts and breaking traffic laws, Thirteen managed to arrive at the hospital before she was unreasonably late. She headed for the office, finding it surprisingly empty. Determined not to let the day get the jump on her, Thirteen grabbed a cup of coffee and settled at the table to look over the patient file. Just as she was beginning to loathe the silence, Taub walked in.

"How's the patient?" Thirteen asked.

"The nurses say there's been no change."

"The nurses? Why didn't you check on him?"

"We spent the night surgically implanting a tube into the guy's penis after he spent hours with a painful erection. I'm getting sore just talking about it."

Thirteen rolled her eyes, "You men are so sensitive."

"Speaking of which, where's Foreman?"

"Haven't seen him," Thirteen said. The sudden ringing of her phone sent her rifling through her purse. "This is probably him, though."

Taub watched as Thirteen confirmed her hunch before shoving the phone in her pocket, ignoring the call. "You're not going to answer?"

"Nope. He's been calling since I skipped dinner. Sooner or later he'll figure out that I don't want to talk."

Thirteen began replacing the things she had pulled from her bag while Taub took a seat. Looking across the table he eyed Rachel's hoodie. "What's with the jacket? Didn't you go to Sarah Lawrence?"

"A friend lent it to me," Thirteen replied as she fingered the fabric for the umpteenth time that morning.

"That pretty doctor from physio?" Taub asked, immediately garnering a glare from Thirteen. "I've seen you two talking."

"It's Rachel and she's the head of physio."

"Seriously? She's your age," Taub said, sounding surprised. He cleared his throat as his expression quickly turned serious. "Don't be mad, but I've also seen the way you look at each other. You definitely don't look at Foreman that way."

Thirteen fixed him with a withering stare, "We're friends, Taub. Nothing more."

"So you're just rubbing her jacket for good luck?"

Realizing that she had been running her fingers over the hoodie absentmindedly, Thirteen quickly shoved her hands in her lap.

"Take it from someone who's had an affair or two," Taub started. "The emotional stuff causes the most damage."

"I'm not cheating on Foreman."

"It might not seem like it, but you kind of are. It's obvious you have feelings for Rachel. I know it can be confusing, but it's unfair to both of them if you don't make a choice."

"I'm not confused," Thirteen said tersely. "I've made my choice. Rachel is my friend, Foreman is my boyfriend."

"And yet you're avoiding both of them," Taub added.

In a huff Thirteen stood to leave, snatching Rachel's hoodie from the table and hurrying from the office. She went tearing through the halls, her sights set on the physiotherapy department. She was more than eager to return what had become a reminder of how lamentable her last meeting with Rachel had been. She charged up to the door of Rachel's office, but as her hand hit the knob her intensity started to deflate. She couldn't anticipate what might happen once she opened the door. Thirteen slowly turned the knob and entered unannounced. Suddenly she found herself startling Rachel from a phone call and standing anxiously in the middle of the floor. For a long while she said nothing, even after Rachel hung up the phone. As Rachel rose from her desk and moved closer, Thirteen could feel her heart leap forward in her chest. She awkwardly thrust the hoodie between them, hoping to maintain some distance.

"Thank you," Rachel said. "You missed your session last week." She waited for Thirteen to respond, but nothing came. "I understand that you're angry with me, but you shouldn't skip therapy. I can assign you to another therapist."

"That's not necessary," Thirteen said quickly. She jammed her hands in her pockets as she squirmed under Rachel's gaze. "I just need some time. I'll have to miss this week's session, too."

"Don't blow all the progress you've made just to avoid me."

"I skipped last week to avoid you, I'm skipping this week because I'm actually busy. I'm back in diagnostics and we've got our hands full."

"House is back?" Rachel asked.

"He's out of the hospital, but he's not coming back. Cuddy's giving Foreman a chance to run the department. Maybe working together again will be good for us."

"I hope so," Rachel nodded. She hesitated before speaking again. "Listen, I think while you're working things out with Foreman we should keep our distance; not spend so much time together."

"Less time would be none."

"I just think it would be best."

"Fine," Thirteen said through gritted teeth. "If that's what you want, to completely push me away, then I guess I'll leave you alone."

"I'm sorry, Remy," Rachel said, Thirteen's name coming out in a quiet sigh.

"Just tell me one thing. Did you ever care about me or were you just using me as a distraction?"

"That's not fair," Rachel murmured.

"Isn't it? Any time we get close to having a moment you practically jump out of your skin to get away from me. You'd rather push me back into a strained relationship than kiss me."

"If things aren't working between you and Foreman, you should end it, but I am not the better choice."

"That's not the point and you know it. Do you care about me?" Thirteen asked again desperately.

"A lot more than I should," Rachel nearly whispered.

"I don't get this," Thirteen gasped. "I really thought I understood you, but now…"

"It's better if you don't understand."

"Right, because if I understood I might not be angry with you."

"That's the general idea."

"Fuck you."

Shaking her head in frustration, Thirteen walked out on Rachel. She plodded back to the diagnostics office and settled in just in time for the differential and the inevitable confrontation with Foreman.

* * *

Another long day at the hospital was coming to an end. The remaining staff members trudged through the half-empty halls while they counted down the time they had left for the night. Thirteen slowly walked from her patient's room. She had started his treatment and he seemed to be on the mend. The only thing left for her to do was apologize to Foreman. She tried to keep the facts straight in her mind. She had gone against him–challenged him–by checking the online responses again for clues. She hadn't supported him. Thirteen could still imagine the hurt expression that stretched across Foreman's face when she had told him what she'd done. But still she wasn't sorry.

It was her job to challenge him, not to go along with what he thought. More than that, it was her nature. She would only be apologizing for being herself. Even so, Thirteen wanted to at least try to salvage her relationship and there was only one way to go about that. Mustering up the courage to put her pride aside, Thirteen stepped inside the office. Foreman was settled behind the desk, already looking comfortable in his new position.

"Heard Cuddy made it official. Department's yours. Congrats," Thirteen said. She stuck her hands in her pockets and rocked awkwardly on her heels before tentatively walking to the desk. "I'm sorry. I went behind your back. On a scale of one to ten how mad are you?"

"A seven," Foreman admitted. "And that's stupid. You did the right thing, it's my fault you thought you had to go behind my back."

"I should've stood up to you."

"But you didn't because you didn't want to fight again."

"It's our first case. It'll take time to adjust," Thirteen said. She took a seat at the desk with Foreman and he eyed her with a look she couldn't quite read.

"What if by the time we get adjusted we don't like each other anymore?"

"That's not going to happen," Thirteen insisted.

"You sure? Because ever since I took this job we've been making each other miserable." Foreman dropped his gaze, "I really don't think this is going to work."

Thirteen tried again to discern Foreman's expression. When she thought she had it, she was taken aback, "You're breaking up with me?"

"No," Foreman assured her. "The other night when I thought I was done, you were there. I need you. I don't want to lose you."

Thirteen had never heard Foreman admit how he felt about her. She shifted in her seat, becoming slightly uncomfortable; there was still something unreadable in his eyes. "Why are you–" Things began to click as Foreman refused to look her in the eye. "You're firing me."

"I'm sorry," was all he offered.

Thirteen glared at him a moment before storming out of the office. She charged to the locker room, stopping only to get a box from the supply closet. When she was in the locker room and sure no one else was around, Thirteen threw the box aside and began slamming the broad side of her fist into her locker. As her anger got the better of her, her aim wavered and she hit the locker squarely with her last knuckle. With her hand inflaming with pain Thirteen slowly regained her composure. She was just beginning to dump the contents of her locker into the box when she heard to door open. She glanced up quickly to see Rachel headed to her own locker.

"Going somewhere?" Rachel asked.

"You're speaking to me now?" Thirteen scoffed.

"Fine, don't answer."

"Foreman fired me," Thirteen sighed. "This should do wonders for our relationship."

Rachel stood, jaw dropped, frozen in the middle of grabbing her things, "Will you be alright?"

"I would think it'd be easier for you this way. Without me around to constantly push away, you'll be so much more productive."

"You're the one doing the pushing right now," Rachel noted. "I was only expressing concern."

"But that's just it. You can't tell me to keep my distance and then swoop in to save the day when you see me upset." Thirteen paused a moment, "The worst thing about this is we actually had a good friendship. Now it's all messed up and I really don't have a lot of other friends."

Rachel leaned against the locker by Thirteen's. "I'm sorry I screwed this all up. I wish things could be different. I wish you didn't have an asshole of a boyfriend who would put you out of work. I wish I didn't have to push you away."

"But we are where we are," Thirteen concluded.

"But I'm still your friend. Nothing's really changed."

"Are you serious? Everything has changed."

"Circumstances have changed, not the way I feel about you," Rachel said. "I'm still here if you need me, so don't be a stranger."

Rachel shot Thirteen a weak smile before she turned and left. Going back to her locker, Thirteen packed up the last of her things and slipped out of the hospital.

When Thirteen arrived home she dropped the box onto her desk and went to wash up. She gave herself a long, hard glare in the bathroom mirror before slinking wearily off to bed. As she drifted off to sleep, Thirteen tried to remember the last time anything had been simple in her life.

* * *

Thirteen darted clumsily into her apartment. She was juggling coffee and breakfast in one hand; her mail, dry cleaning, and a stack of books and brochures in the other, while trying to retrieve her phone from her pocket before it stopped ringing. "Hold on!" she yelled at her phone, sitting her food and the rest of her hindrances on her desk. Finally reaching her phone, Thirteen saw Foreman's number in place of what she had hoped would be a potential employer. She breathed out a frustrated sigh. Foreman had taken to calling her no less than three times a day since she left the hospital. Thirteen set her phone aside and checked the answering machine that sat on her desk. She still had no messages. Flopping onto her desk chair, she opened her laptop, and quickly checked her email. Finding it empty as well, she slammed the computer shut and turned her attention to her breakfast.

It had barely been a week since she'd been fired, but already Thirteen's impatience was getting the best of her. She had sent out nearly a dozen copies of her resume and still had no leads on a new job. Her gaze wandered to the books and brochures she had brought in. Each one of them promised to hold all the information she needed to plan a trip to Thailand. She grabbed the first one on the stack and flipped through its glossy pages, letting her mind wander as she imagined herself visiting all the sights in the pictures. An exotic getaway was sounding better by the moment.

Just as Thirteen's daydreaming was beginning to put her mind at ease there was a knock at her door. She stayed put and ignored the interruption. Not expecting any visitors, she had a fair guess who it might be. Even if it wasn't him, she was in no mood to talk to anyone. She grabbed another brochure and waited for the knocking to stop.

To her disappointment, the stubborn nuisance at her door refused to give up. Every few seconds the knocking repeated without relent. Even after she had given her brochure a thorough reading, the knocking still came. With no end in sight, Thirteen rose and slowly plodded to the door. She reluctantly swung it open to find Foreman looking as stubborn as ever.

"The only reason I let you go is because our relationship wouldn't work if I was in charge," Foreman started. "But I won't be in charge soon so… I came to offer your old job back."

Thirteen nearly laughed in his face. He'd been pestering her for days only to show up at her door muttering about a job offer. Foreman suddenly seemed so pathetic.

"I know I look bad," Foreman continued. "Circumstances have changed."

"I don't want the job," Thirteen said shortly.

"Why not?"

"Because there's a much simpler explanation for you firing me. You wanted to break up with me but you were too weak to do it yourself."

"Then why would I try to hire you back?" Foreman asked, shaking his head. "Can we please get some dinner tonight?"

"I'm sorry."

Thirteen promptly shut the door and retreated into her apartment.

* * *

It wasn't until the next morning that Thirteen realized she couldn't simply walk away from Foreman. After taking a long run to blow off steam, she returned just in time to hear her answering machine taking a message. "Dr. Hadley, this is Andrew Douglass at Princeton General. I've got your résumé here and I'd like you to come in and interview with us. If you could give me a call back…"

Thirteen let out an exasperated growl as she headed for the shower. She quickly cleaned up, threw on some clothes, and headed to Princeton-Plainsboro.

When she arrived at the hospital, Thirteen wasted no time in having a nurse point her in Foreman's direction. She found him speaking with a patient and waited for him outside. When he suddenly turned to look at her, she waved awkwardly. She could feel her annoyance with him growing as he nonchalantly crossed the hall to meet her by the nurses' station.

"I got a call from Douglass' department at Princeton General, they want me to interview with them," Thirteen said. "Which is weird because when I called last week they said they had nothing available, so I never sent in my résumé."

"Douglass owes me a favor," Foreman said.

"Most people send chocolates."

Foreman eyed Thirteen with a look of determination she had come to know very well, "I'd stand outside your apartment all night holding up a boom box, except you told me you hate eighties music."

Thirteen tried and failed to hold in a small laugh. Foreman would choose now to try being sweet. Still, it was hard to be angry with him when he was showing actual emotions. She looked away, tentatively thinking through her answer. "So, about dinner, um," Thirteen began, clearing her throat. "I'm free tomorrow night."

Receiving a slight smile from Foreman, Thirteen headed off. On her way out, she found herself going the long way. She was taking the route that lead past the physiotherapy department. When she reached Rachel's office, Thirteen watched her through the blinds for a few moments before being caught. Rachel smiled nervously and, as always, Thirteen did the same. Thoroughly embarrassed, she turned around and made her exit.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks to my reviewers. SexyMuppet be patient, they will get together. A nonny mouse I'm really starting to wish Rachel were on the show, too. I going crazy waiting for the new season. If you guys are preview junkies like I am, check out MsHousefan on Youtube.

* * *

That following night, Thirteen was on her way to meet Foreman for dinner. He had let her choose the time and the restaurant–he was really trying. Despite his efforts, however, Thirteen wondered if she was making the right decision. She kept thinking of Rachel and their brief encounter the day before. That one smile was enough to make Thirteen question everything.

She arrived at the restaurant and quickly parked. Glancing out her window, Thirteen watched as the warm lights of the restaurant embraced its patrons. They looked happy. Somewhere in there Foreman was waiting for her; at one point they had been happy together. But now, if she were being honest with herself, the person she saw herself being happy with was nowhere in sight. As much as she wanted to be closer to Rachel, Thirteen knew if she tried, she would only be pushed away again. What she had with Foreman was complicated and strained, but it was there. She did care for him, and she owed it to herself to give it one last shot.

After giving herself plenty of time to turn back, Thirteen entered the restaurant. The maître d' showed her to a table on the restaurant's terrace where Foreman waited. He stood to greet her, kissed her on the cheek, and even pulled out her chair. They ordered a bottle of wine and made small talk while they waited for their meals.

"Cameron and Chase?" Thirteen asked.

"They both really like diagnostics and I think they both really like watching House torture me," Foreman said. "Anyway, thank you for understanding about the job. I had two really crappy alternatives."

Thirteen hated what she was about to say. It would bring the conversation to such a negative place, but it bothered her that he still couldn't see it. "There was a third."

"What's that?"

"You could have stepped aside."

"We both would have lost our jobs," Foreman scoffed.

"You could have asked Cameron or Chase to take your place."

"They wouldn't have wanted to."

"You just said they both really like diagnostics," Thirteen insisted.

"You want to go back in time?"

"I want to make this work. I want to understand you. I mean, you know how you make me feel. If you could do it again?"

"I made the right decision."

Thirteen looked at Foreman sadly, and seeing nothing but stubbornness and rigidity, she got up and left.

* * *

It was long after midnight when Thirteen stumbled from a cab. She paid the driver before making her way inside the building. It had been a while since she'd been there and she hoped she remembered the right apartment. She approached the door and knocked heavily a few times. It took a few moments, but soon enough Rachel answered.

"Remy? What are you doing here? It's almost two."

Thirteen shrugged, "I wanted to see you."

Rachel looked Thirteen over. Her makeup was smudged, her hair rumpled, and a heady musk of sweat, stale beer and hard liquor streamed from her.

"Please tell me you didn't drive here."

Thirteen shook her head, "Took a cab."

"So you just decided to pub crawl your way across town?" Rachel grabbed Thirteen by the arm and pulled her inside.

"I figured you wouldn't push me away if I was stone drunk," Thirteen said.

"All you did was drink? You didn't take anything else?" Rachel asked. She sat her down on the couch and ran to the kitchen, quickly returning with a tall glass of water.

"Just because I'm drunk doesn't mean you get to judge me."

"I'm not," Rachel insisted. "But as long as you're in my apartment I have a right to know if you've taken anything."

"I'm just drunk," Thirteen replied, crisscrossing a finger over her heart. "I swear."

"Drink this," Rachel said as she pushed the glass towards Thirteen. To her relief, she didn't argue. "What are you doing here, Remy?"

"I wanted to see you."

"You said that. What happened?"

"I missed you," Thirteen started. "I had dinner with Foreman tonight, but before I went in, I was sitting in my car watching all these couples go into the restaurant and I kept wishing you were there. I tried to fix things with him, I tried to want something else, but I just want you."

Thirteen leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. Rachel reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Thirteen's ear before resting a hand on her cheek. "Remy…" she sighed.

"Don't," Thirteen said. She pushed Rachel's hand away and straightened up. "I know what you're going to say. We won't work out, I'll get hurt. You keep saying the same shit."

"I'm sorry," Rachel replied. She rose from the couch, tugging lightly on Thirteen's arm and pulling her up. "Come on."

Thirteen allowed herself to be led to the bedroom. Rachel gently removed her jacket, eased her onto the bed, and pulled the comforter over her. She turned to leave, but Thirteen quickly grabbed her by the wrist. "Where are you going?"

"I'll just be on the couch."

"Stay with me."

With Thirteen still tightly gripping her wrist, Rachel simply nodded. She crawled into bed and lay down across from Thirteen, making sure to keep as much space between them as possible. Before Rachel could stop her, Thirteen grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together. Knowing she had caught Rachel off guard, Thirteen took advantage of the moment and closed the gap between them. She tucked her head under Rachel's chin and, feeling content for the first time all night, drifted off quickly.

As soon as she heard the sound of Thirteen's rhythmic breathing, Rachel slid to the opposite side of the bed and began to make her way to the couch. She tried briefly to untangle their hands, but the movement only caused Thirteen to lock both hands around Rachel's. Giving up on her escape, Rachel settled back into her spot and looked over at Thirteen. She gazed at her for a long time before moving back to the center of the bed. She placed her head back where it had been and wrapped her free arm around Thirteen's body.

* * *

It was late when Thirteen finally began to rouse from her deep sleep. The sun streaming from the open blinds had finally started to get to her. She stretched stiffly and pulled herself from under the covers. The bed was empty and, as far as she could tell, the apartment was as well.

Thirteen made her way to Rachel's bathroom and looked herself over. She was still in the same clothes from the night before, though now they were fully wrinkled, her hair and makeup were a mess, there were dark circles forming under her eyes, and her smell was unmistakable. "Fuck all," she murmured to herself. "I look like a bar skank."

"You look fine. Just tired." Rachel said from behind her. She smiled apologetically as her voice startled Thirteen so much she nearly jumped into the sink. "I'm sorry."

"I thought you had left," Thirteen exclaimed.

"I just got back. I ran out for a few things. Sorry I startled you," Rachel apologized again.

"It's okay. I just would've figured you'd be at work by now."

Rachel shook her head, "I moved some things around. I wanted to make sure you were okay." She smiled again as Thirteen smiled back at her. "You're probably hungry, so I'm going to go make breakfast. There are extra toothbrushes under the sink and towels in the closet. If you feel like taking a shower you can borrow some clothes, whatever you like."

After receiving a nod from Thirteen, Rachel rushed off quickly. She headed to the kitchen and busied herself. It was unbearably awkward having Thirteen so close, especially after she had worked so hard to keep her distance. She tried to veer her mind away from the fact that Thirteen was using her shower and back to the task of making breakfast. Rachel had nearly finished when Thirteen made her way into the kitchen pulling a sweater around herself. Rachel had to force herself not to think about how good Thirteen looked in her clothes.

"I, um, didn't know what worked for you," Rachel stammered. "I made a smoothie and some coffee. There's also toast, eggs, hash browns. I could whip up some pancakes if you'd like."

"No, this all looks great," Thirteen said. "I'm starving, actually. I could probably eat all of this."

"Everything it is," Rachel said. She quickly made a plate for Thirteen and ushered her to the table. "Do you have a headache or anything? I could get you some ibuprofen, or–"

"I'm fine, Rachel," Thirteen smirked. "Get some breakfast, sit down, relax." Nervously, Rachel grabbed some food and sat down. They ate quietly until Thirteen worked up the nerve to speak again. "I'm sorry for showing up here like this. It wasn't fair. I know it must've been weird."

"It's okay. It was –is weird, but I said I'd be here for you if you needed me and I meant it."

Thirteen nodded and quickly grasped at a change in subject, "How are things with Alex."

"Over," Rachel said bluntly. "Weeks ago."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be, it was your fault," Rachel said sternly before cracking the smallest smile. "I'm kidding–mostly. I did end things because of what you said, but only because you were right."

"So, I don't have to worry about him hunting me down for sleeping in your bed last night?"

Rachel scoffed, "A librarian tussle with a bisexual barfly? He wouldn't dare."

Thirteen laughed, "What did he do at the university, anyway?"

"I don't want to say."

Thirteen nudged Rachel with her foot, "Tell me. It can't be that bad."

Rachel sighed, conceding, "He's an assistant researcher of books and manuscripts."

"Like I said, librarian."

"Hey, I met him while he was running shirtless on the track. I didn't know how bored I'd be until after we went out."

Thirteen shrugged, "How much talking did you really do, anyway?" She grinned as Rachel shot her an annoyed glare. "I just meant that you weren't dating that long."

"Sure you did."

"I've started planning my trip. I picked up a ton of books."

"When are you going?" Rachel asked.

"Soon. I've even got a bit of an itinerary together."

"What do you want to see?"

"I don't know."

"How can you have an itinerary all worked out without knowing what you want to see? Sounds like you need help," Rachel teased. She stood and cleared their empty plates before heading to her living room. Thirteen quickly followed and found Rachel pulling things from her bookshelf. "Okay, we have Lonely Planet, customs book, phrasebook, and my travel journal."

"Travel journal?" Thirteen asked.

"It's where I keep all of my insider traveler details. Places I saw, tips I got from locals, good restaurants," Rachel said before pausing. "Random thoughts."

"So you're giving me your diary?"

"It's only for trips. It's like my travelogue. Take it, copy the Thailand stuff," Rachel handed the books over to Thirteen. "So, things with you and Foreman–"

"Are over," Thirteen said surely. "For good."

"Why were you with him? You two didn't really seem to be on the same page."

"He was there for me when I got my diagnosis. At the time he made me feel…" Thirteen hesitated, searching for the right word.

"Safe?" Rachel offered.

Thirteen shook her head, "He made me feel stable, but it's not him I feel safe around." She watched for a reaction before she continued. "With Foreman I finally felt like the walls weren't going to come crashing in on me, but it's different with you."

"Different how?"

"With you I feel like even if the walls do close in, I'll be okay. But I know you want to keep your distance, so I'll–" Thirteen trailed off as she noticed Rachel staring at her shoulders. "Are you listening?"

"I am. I just, um–Have you been working out?"

"You choose now to come on to me?"

"No, your shoulders are out of alignment. It looks like you haven't been maintaining posture while you exercise; your muscles are developing asymmetrically," Rachel frowned as she received an odd glare. "What?"

"That was just a very Houseian moment."

Rachel smirked and guided Thirteen to the couch, where she gently flexed and massaged her shoulder. Thirteen sighed breathily as Rachel manipulated it back into its proper position. "How's that feel?" Rachel asked.

"Really good. I didn't realize how tense I was," Thirteen said. She felt a familiar blush crossing her cheeks as Rachel's hands moved over her.

"You're putting too much stress on your right side."

"How do I fix it?"

"It's hard to say since I can't monitor you anymore," Rachel said. "Maybe we can work something out when you get back from your trip."

"I get a free physiotherapist?" Thirteen smirked.

"We'll see. Do me a favor? When you go to Thailand, visit the temples at the Grand Palace. They're amazing. You can meditate at the Temple of the Emerald Buddha, and then get a massage at the Temple of the Reclining Buddha."

"Sounds nice," Thirteen mumbled as Rachel finished with her shoulder.

"Very," Rachel replied. She glanced at the clock regretfully. "I hate to rush you out, but I have to head to work. Can I take you home?"

Thirteen nodded and grabbed her things as she quickly followed Rachel out. They slipped into Rachel's car and headed towards Thirteen's apartment. There was silence for a while as Rachel focused on the road and Thirteen gazed out the window.

"Thank you," Thirteen mumbled.

"You're welcome?"

"For not pushing me away last night, thank you."

"Just holding up my end of the deal, Remy," Rachel said smiling.

Thirteen found the car approaching her neighborhood much too soon for her liking. When they reached her building, she hopped out of the car with Rachel following behind her. Rachel walked her in, staring nervously at her feet until they stood together outside Thirteen's door.

"If you need any more help with your trip, give me a call," Rachel said.

"I will. Thanks again."

Thirteen started to unlock her door, but before she could slip inside Rachel pulled her close and brought their lips crashing together. Rachel quickly brought their bodies closer as Thirteen deepened the kiss. She ran her hands up to Thirteen's neck, delicately tracing her jaw with her thumbs. She pulled back slightly and looked into Thirteen's eyes as they fluttered open. "I just needed to know what that would be like," Rachel said softly.

Thirteen smiled and moved to capture Rachel's lips again, but she pulled away. "Rachel… don't," Thirteen said, holding onto her hand before she could slip away completely.

"I'm not," Rachel said. She tried to assure Thirteen, but her uneasy smile belied her feelings. "I just really have to go."

Knowing Rachel would pull away at any moment, Thirteen dropped her hand. "Can I see you again before I leave?"

Rachel nodded before heading off. She paused when she reached the building's main door. "I'll see you," she called back to Thirteen.


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks to all of you. I got some really great reviews this past week. You guys keep me writing! So... please don't hate me for this chapter. Just trust me. Also don't hate me if I can no longer make weekly updates. I just started classes and I'll be reading two novels a month, plus a ton of other assignments. I will absolutely continue this story, just maybe not as regularly. I wanted to pose another question to all of you: someone asked if I'd be going through the whole season, and I'm not sure. What do you think? Prepare yourselves, now. After this chapter I'm going to shake things up a bit.

* * *

A few days later Thirteen was headed to see Rachel again. She approached her door hesitantly and knocked. When Rachel quickly answered a delighted smile sprung to Thirteen's face. "Sorry to stop by unannounced again. I was in the neighborhood," she said.

"It okay. It's good to see you, Remy," Rachel replied. She stepped aside and let Thirteen enter before leading her to the living room.

"I came to bring your stuff back," Thirteen reached into her bag and handed back the books and clothing she had borrowed. "Fresh from the laundry."

"Thanks. Did you find the books helpful?"

"Yeah, I really liked your travel journal. It was nice to read your thoughts on everything," Thirteen smirked. "Listen, I was headed to that trendy little café off Nassau and I thought you might like to join me. I'm going to grab a bite to eat and finalize my travel plans."

"I'd love to, really, but I'm swamped with paperwork," Rachel gestured in the direction of her desk and Thirteen looked to find it covered in files and papers. "Do you need help with anything else? Have you got an actual itinerary this time?"

"I do," Thirteen laughed. "I've got everything booked. The only thing left to do is confirm my flight."

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. I think you should come with me," Thirteen said hopefully. She watched as Rachel's eyebrows perked up. "I know it's pretty late to be asking, but I really want you to come with me."

"Remy, I can't."

"I know you won't be able to join me tomorrow, but you could meet me later. You could probably pull some strings with Cuddy and get time off."

"No," Rachel shook her head quickly. "I'm not saying I can't because of work, I'm saying I can't because I don't want to go."

"What the hell is your problem? You keep doing this. You tell me you care about me, you tell me to call you. You kissed me the other day. Did that mean anything to you?"

"I meant something, but it was a mistake."

"How can it be a mistake?" Thirteen cried in frustration. "If you care about me at all, how can you not want to get away from all this shit and come with me?"

"We both know what would happen if I went. All that time together would only bring us closer."

"That's the general idea. Why do you have to make this so complicated?"

"Because it is complicated!" Rachel shouted in exasperation. "Remy, you just lost your job and it's only been days since your split with Foreman. I can't be your rebound."

"You are not my rebound. You're so full of shit! Why can't you be honest and admit that you're scared?"

"You don't listen, Remy," Rachel pleaded. "I'm afraid I'll hurt you. I don't know how many other ways to say that. I can't be anything more than a friend."

"Then I'll wait," Thirteen shrugged. "I have really fallen hard for you, Rachel. I don't want to be just your friend. I'll wait until you're ready."

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly, "Remy, there is no waiting. I can't be with you. I'm sorry."

Thirteen shook her head in disappointment, "You spend way too much time apologizing to me. I should go. Can we talk again when I get back?"

"It won't make a difference," Rachel sighed. "Just enjoy your trip."

Before Rachel could show her out Thirteen turned and bolted for the door. She headed for her car, grumbling and cursing to herself the whole way. Hastily, she made her way to the café and settled herself at a table.

After she had polished off her dinner, Thirteen pulled out her laptop. When she brought up her web browser, half a dozen saved links opened. She looked through them briefly; most of them had to do with things she'd wanted to experience with Rachel in Thailand. Earlier, she'd been so eager to show Rachel what she had planned for them. She had been certain Rachel would accept her invitation to come along. Now that her hopes had been dashed, Thirteen sullenly looked for activities she could enjoy solo.

Hunched over the table, Thirteen didn't notice a familiar man approaching her. He surreptitiously slipped into the chair behind her and made himself comfortable. "You should try searching for 'Misty May digs for gold,'" he said, turning to face her. "Make sure you put it in quotes."

Thirteen turned to face House and rolled her eyes. Rejected by a friend and potential lover, then forced to suffer House's antics –only she could be this lucky.

"I'm making travel plans," she replied. "Just need to get away, have some time to myself. Getting the hint?"

"So, that's it? You're done with your little experiment with Foreman?"

"It wasn't an experiment, it was a relationship," Thirteen grumbled. "You may want to look into the difference." Thirteen smiled briefly. She had always liked quipping with House this way. It was a shame she wouldn't get to see what was it was like to have these sparring matches without being personally debased. "I'm glad you're better, House. I actually liked working for you, but I'm not coming back."

"Good," House said. "Because if you came back Foreman would try and save the relationship and give up being the boss."

"Are you here to try to save my relationship with Foreman?"

"God no. I'm here to try to save my relationship with Foreman. Right now, I'm Kobe playing the game I love however the hell I want. Phil Jackson has to listen to everyone else bitch about it. Enjoy Cabo," House replied. He pulled himself from his chair and limped towards the exit.

"I'm going to Thailand," Thirteen called after him.

He turned and looked at her curiously, "Really? Interesting."

Thirteen smiled; she had him. She was leaving him with one final facet to obsess over. "Goodbye House."

"Goodbye Thirteen."

* * *

The next morning Thirteen was preparing for her flight. She ran down a mental checklist before grabbing her luggage and heading out. Outside her building, a cab waited and the driver quickly helped Thirteen load her things into the trunk. The driver waited until she settled into the back seat, then pulled off. As she watched her apartment become a distant landmark, an idea occurred to Thirteen. She grabbed her phone and quickly called her airline. Feeling unusually patient, she calmly over-enunciated her answers to the airline's automated service, even after it asked her a third time. "Bangkok," Thirteen said slowly. "Flight seven-ninety-nine."

"Wow, Bangkok," the driver chimed in. "That sounds awesome. How long?"

"Not sure yet," Thirteen said without thinking. Realizing how risky it was to let a stranger know her home would be empty for a while, she quickly covered. "Luckily, I have a friend who's staying at my place and taking care of my dog. He's really big, so he needs a lot of exercise." She turned back to her phone and responded to another prompt, "Remy Hadley, H-A-D-L-E-Y."

"What, do you think I'm going to rob the place?" the driver asked.

"No, of course not."

"In case you haven't noticed I have a job."

"Look, I'm sorry. I don't know you. You're either honest or dishonest. I figure the safer choice is to–"

"Is to treat a stranger like an ass? Nice way to live your life," the driver shot. "Bitch."

"I said I'm sorry," Thirteen told the driver genuinely. "Oh! Hello, uh, I was wondering if there are any business class seats open that I could use my miles to upgrade to?"

The driver ignored the apology and continued to harp on the issue. "I don't know you, but I assumed I could trust you, welcomed you into my car."

"Okay, you're a saint," Thirteen snapped. She was quickly becoming annoyed, and suddenly the representative on the line was telling her there was no record of her reservation. "That's impossible, I confirmed my reservation last night." They still had no record of the reservation. "So rebook it." The representative apologized, but their records showed her reservation had been canceled. "Well, obviously it was a mistake on your end, not mine." The representative apologized once more and offered her a seat on a flight three days away. "No, I'm on my way to the airport right now!" Thirteen could only seethe as the representative listed her options; none of them got her on a plane before the end of the week.

"They don't believe you, huh?" The driver asked, a bit too much enjoyment in his voice.

"Can you just turn around, please?" Thirteen asked.

The cab rounded its way back to Thirteen's building. Still arguing with the airline representative, she gathered her bags and paid the driver–sans tip. It took another ten minutes of back and forth, but Thirteen eventually wrangled her way into a new flight reservation and a few hundred thousand frequent flier miles.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Ms. Hadley," the representative asked.

Thirteen thought for a moment before coming to a hesitant decision. "Actually, could you exchange those miles for another seat on that flight?"

* * *

That evening Thirteen found herself driving to see House. He had to be responsible for the cancellation of her flight. She marched up to House's door and knocked furiously. "Stay out of my life," she demanded when he finally opened the door.

House glanced around obliviously, "Okay." He began to shut the door, but Thirteen quickly stopped him.

"I know you canceled my reservation. You obviously saw me log in when you were spying on me in the coffee shop."

"I was talking to you. I was spying on the MILF in the running shorts."

"I'm not coming back on the team."

House shrugged, "I don't want you back on the team."

"I cannot work for, with, or around Foreman."

"Which is why I don't want you back on the team," House insisted. "Now that you're out of the picture he's better than ever. Which is going to make me less miserable than ever, which is why neither of us gives a damn how, when, or on what island in the Bahamas you want to get away from it all."

"The Bahamas?"

House narrowed his eyes as he thought of another guess, "Costa Rica?"

"I told you, Thailand."

"I assumed you were lying. Because it would have been idiotic of you to tell me the truth." House began closing the door, but not before delivering one last retort through the dwindling crack, "Yet another reason I have no use for you."

As she headed back to her car, Thirteen punched a number into her phone. "Cuddy? It's Thir–Remy Hadley."

"What can I do for you Dr. Hadley?" Cuddy asked.

"I was wondering if you could help me. I booked a flight using my PPTH email, and someone canceled it. I already asked House, but he said he didn't do it."

"And you believe him?"

"Strangely, I do."

"I can have IT look into it, but it'll take some time. Can I get back to you?"

"That's fine," Thirteen sighed. "I'm grounded for a few days anyway."

* * *

A few evenings later, Thirteen was sauntering through the halls of Princeton-Plainsboro. Cuddy had returned her phone call; IT had tracked down the person responsible for holding up her getaway, and she was closing in on his office.

"Thanks," Thirteen called through Wilson's open door.

"You're welcome. For what?" he asked.

"For thinking I was worth breaking the law to keep around," Thirteen crossed the office as she watched Wilson closely.

"That's just the way I am. But still don't know what you're talking about"

"Cuddy had IT trace all the IP addresses who've logged into my email account. There were two, mine and yours."

"Obviously, House decided he needs you more than he's willing–"

Thirteen shook her head, "I already asked House."

"And he'd certainly never lie."

"No, he'd lie, except he wants me gone. And he'd do a lot better job of lying than you just did."

"Really? It was that bad?"

"No, actually. But it doesn't matter anymore. Why? Because of House or Foreman?"

"You're good for both of them, but Foreman's not my best friend."

"House will be fine," Thirteen said.

"Maybe. But with you he'd be better," Wilson countered. "He needs someone who doesn't need him. You're the only one he's never been able to suck into his crazy House vortex. It keeps him grounded, his ego in check."

"Why didn't you just come to me?"

"I figured you'd only stay if House asked and I knew he would. Eventually."

"Bye Wilson." Thirteen pulled herself from Wilson's chair and made her way towards the door.

"This is a great job," Wilson called after her. "Maybe even better now that House is at least trying to have real relationships with people." Thirteen threw him a dubious look and he shrugged, "I said trying."

She brushed it off, quickly shrugging her shoulders, "It doesn't matter."

"A job you love doesn't matter? Don't throw it all away because of a bad breakup."

Thirteen sighed–if only it were that simple. "Bye Wilson," she said again.

She made her way through the halls, headed once again to where she always seemed to end up when she had nothing to do at the hospital. She tried to think of something to say when she saw Rachel, but nothing came. She rummaged furiously through her purse, while continuing to wrack her brain for words, any words. They didn't have to be cute, sexy, or even clever, but she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to get away with simply shoving an airline ticket into Rachel's hands and running away.

As she rounded the corner she collided with Rachel. "I was just coming to see you," Thirteen blurted, finally reclaiming her vocabulary.

"I was just leaving," Rachel said, continuing her exit. She sighed heavily as Thirteen followed her towards the elevator. "I thought you were off to Thailand."

"My flight got screwed up. I thought I'd give you one last chance to come with me. The airline credited me a bunch of miles, so I got you this," Thirteen handed the ticket to Rachel, lingering a little as she pressed it into her hand. She took a step back and shoved her hands in her pockets as Rachel immediately tried to hand the ticket back.

"I'm not coming with you. I meant what I said before, Remy. I don't want to be your rebound." Rachel impatiently pressed the down button, but the elevator showed no signs of reaching her any quicker.

"You're not my rebound. We both know this was brewing long before I broke up with Foreman. I don't care if you can't fly out tomorrow, just please meet me at the airport."

The elevator doors finally opened and Rachel stepped inside, ignoring Thirteen's plea. "Give me a call when you get back. I'll take you out for drinks, and you can tell me about your trip." As the doors closed on Thirteen's sad face, Rachel slammed her hand against the wall in frustration.

* * *

Thirteen was completely on edge. The bustling atmosphere around her was beginning to fray her nerves. There were families with screaming children, college students blaring their headphones and practicing profanities in Thai, plus there had been the public striptease that was airport security. Now she sat somewhat calmly in a stiff chair, cradling her head while a migraine set in. She hadn't slept well, and after two cups of coffee her trepidation over Rachel's decision was only getting worse. Her head told her, knew without a doubt, that Rachel wouldn't show. Still, being left unguarded for the first time, her heart desperately hoped that Rachel would arrive soon.

A loud chime sounded overhead and a woman's voice crackled over the loudspeaker, "Now boarding flight eight-twenty-four to Thailand, all rows."

Stubbornly, Thirteen stayed where she was. She continued to wait, even after all the other passengers had boarded.

"Miss," one of the flight attendants called. "I'm going to have to ask you to board the plane now."

Reluctantly, Thirteen headed through the terminal. She walked to entrance of the plane and handed over her boarding pass. She took a final look back, but it was no use; the plane wad fully boarded and the terminal was already being locked down. As she sat down, Thirteen tried to ignore the empty seat next to her. Her eyes betrayed her, glancing towards it sadly. It stood as a glaring omission; a reminder that she was alone again.


	12. Chapter 12

It's Labor day here in the States. That means lots of traffic, lots of barbecues, and lots of students either dreading the first day of school or the work already due. This is a little bonus for everybody. Especially my fellow students. Mostly, I couldn't wait to move the story forward and get you all to stop hating Rachel. You'll understand her soon enough. Thanks to all my reviewers. Diva in the House, I'm totally stealing that "seriously sexy adventures" line.

* * *

Rachel was curled in bed staring at the ceiling. As the day's light began to dwindle it was becoming harder to see. It was much too early for her to be in bed, but she had scarcely moved from her spot all day. She pulled the covers over her head as her answering machine chimed with an incoming message. "Rach, it's me. Pick up the phone," a man's voice called. "Your assistant told me you took time off, so I know you're home. You can't dodge me forever."

Rachel groaned and curled into a ball. After a few moments, her phone began ringing again, this time accompanied with the harsh sound of someone banging on her door. "Fucking hell," she cried.

"Open the door!" the man yelled, still banging.

Finally pulling herself from the bed, Rachel charged to the door and yanked it open roughly. "What the hell do you want?"

The man leaned against the doorframe and smiled with a smug sense of satisfaction. "This is how you greet me?" he asked teasingly.

"You've been calling me all evening, then you start banging on my fucking door and you want politeness?"

The man pushed past Rachel and waltzed into her apartment, "Nice to see you, too, little sister."

Rachel eyed her brother carefully. He ran a nervous hand through his short, shaggy curls as he surveyed her home. His expression was similar to Rachel's, but with far more ease. Though his dark eyes were filled with worry, they remained calm. She quickly noticed him shifting a duffle bag that was slung over one of his broad shoulders. "What are you doing here? And why do you have luggage?"

"I came to make sure you were okay. It's never good when you go off the radar like this."

"I'm fine, Evan. Go home."

"That's not going to happen," Evan said quickly. He looked Rachel over. She was standing petulantly with her hands on her hips in a threadbare t-shirt and a pair of shorts. "When was the last time you showered?"

"You don't have to check up on me," Rachel mumbled. Evan headed into her kitchen and she called after him, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Your place is a mess," he said, returning to the living room. "You haven't showered, and the only food in your fridge is a slice of stale pizza."

"I don't need you here."

"What happened? The last time I talked to you, everything was okay. This can't be because of that professor. He sounded like just another place holder."

"He was."

"Then why do you look like someone's just crushed your heart?" Evan asked. The only response Rachel gave was an uncomfortable shrug before she folded her arms around herself. "Tell you what, go take a shower, I'll order some food and clean up."

"Anything but Thai," Rachel muttered. She surprised her brother and headed off to shower without an argument. When she was out of sight Evan looked around the apartment. He had his work cut out for him.

* * *

Half an hour later, Rachel sat on the floor with Evan. They were huddled around the coffee table picking at takeout. Each time Evan tried to uncover what was bothering her, she skirted his questions and avoided eye contact.

"How long have you been on leave?" he asked.

"About two weeks."

"You've been out two weeks and you want to keep telling me there's nothing wrong?"

"I just needed some time to think."

"About what?" Evan pushed.

"I met someone," Rachel finally conceded. "A few months ago. She was my patient, then we were friends, then something changed."

"You fell for her?" When Rachel didn't answer, Evan took his sister's silence as an admission. "What happened? Usually you jump ship before anybody gets to you. You distance yourself from everyone but me–which is insane by the way."

"It's not insane."

"It is. I understand why you do it, but it is. I don't like you being alone," Evan said, pausing to let his words sink in. "What was different with this girl?"

"She flew in under the radar. When we met she was all kinds of off limits–she was my patient, she had a boyfriend. I was drawn to her, though, and we just sort of grew closer. By the time I realized I needed to push her away, it was already too late."

"Okay, first of all, you don't need to push people away. Second of all, what do you mean?"

"She's too close now. I can't push her away," Rachel said.

"So don't."

"No, I mean, I actually can't. I've pushed and pushed and pushed, but I can't get through to her. I have told her flat out that I will hurt her, and she still won't stay away from me."

"Then she must really care about you," Evan said. "But if she's still around, you must be pulling punches."

"What?"

"I've seen you push a lot of people away. You say something cruel, let them see you with someone else," Evan paused, knowing he was about to hit a nerve. "You pick up and leave like you did with Ethan."

"Do not bring him up!"

"I just mean that if you want to leave someone out in the cold, they'll die of frostbite."

"You're right. Every time I see her, I start pinpointing exactly what I'd have to say to push her away for good, but I can never say it. I can't stay away from her. She's been gone almost a month and I can't stop thinking about her. I don't know what I'm going to do when she gets back from her trip. She actually asked me to go to Thailand with her."

"Why didn't you?"

"It breaks my heart to be just friends, but I certainly can't be anything else."

"What are you so afraid of?"

"Christ, you listen as well as she does. I'll hurt her. I don't want things to end up like they did with Ethan and me. Or worse."

"So don't let them."

"It's not that simple," Rachel insisted.

"It's hard to be in relationships when you come from a family like ours. I know how it is. All we know is the way Dad treated people. But we're not him, and it sounds like you've found someone who's really worth putting all that aside for."

"This isn't fair," Rachel groaned. "I feel like I belong to her. I couldn't even sleep in my bed the other night, I kept feeling her laying next to me."

"Yeah, sleep with her, then push her away. That's brilliant."

"I didn't sleep with her. I mean I slept with her, but I didn't have sex with her."

"Why would you do that?" Evan asked. "Why would you do something that intimate if you were trying to push her away?"

"She showed up drunk, and when I put her to bed, she wouldn't let me go. I didn't want her to let me go. I can't stop thinking about her. It's even worse now that she's not working at the hospital. I couldn't even concentrate on my work. I had to tell my boss I was sick."

"Lovesick," Evan muttered.

"Shut up."

"You are, aren't you? You're in love with her!"

"It's not that simple," Rachel said. She brought her knees to her chest and ran her hands through her hair nervously. "Have you ever wondered why she was my patient in the first place? It's not a good diagnosis. Her life is complicated enough. I don't want to add to that. She should be with someone who can love her, someone who can make things easier."

"When did you become such a coward?" Evan asked pointedly. "If things aren't simple, simplify them. You want things to be good for her, then make them good. Be good for her."

"What if I can't be?"

"You can. You have it in you. All those things you want for her, make them happen." Evan looked at Rachel. She finally seemed to be hearing him; considering his words instead of brushing them off. "What's she like?"

"She's tall, brunette, she has these amazing blue-green eyes. Every time I see them I sort of stop breathing for moment."

"That's lovely," Evan said loftily. "But I didn't ask what she looked like. Tell me about her. What is it that has you so twitterpated?"

"She's stubborn, hardheaded, impatient, sarcastic–"

"Wonderful, she's like you," Evan threw in.

"But then," Rachel continued. She spoke as if she hadn't heard her brother, and it was likely she hadn't. "If she lets you in, even just a little, she's sweet and thoughtful. And she's always clever and witty, I mean, she has this really sharp, dry sense of humor. And she's fucking brilliant. She worked for House."

"That crazy doctor you told me about?"

Rachel nodded, "She's amazing, and passionate, and a million other things I can't explain correctly."

"So, tell me honestly, do you love her?" Evan asked.

"I don't know," Rachel said quietly. "I know that sounds stupid. I've just spent so much time pushing my feelings for her away that I don't really know where they go."

"But you do care for her?"

"Very much."

"Then you have to do something. You can't keep pushing everything away. You have to be honest with yourself. If you want to be with her, you have to tell her. Everything else, all the fears and uncertainties, you work through them."

"When did you become such an expert?"

Evan smiled sheepishly and shrugged, "Eh, I've known one or two amazing, passionate, million other things girls back in Brooklyn."

"Then why are you single?"

"Because I'm highly neurotic and I didn't know the things I know now. So stop asking why and take advantage of my experience."

Rachel sighed wearily, "I'm going to take advantage of my bed. Do you mind cleaning up?" Evan shook his head and Rachel headed off to her bedroom. She lied down and began staring at the ceiling again. She listened while Evan washed the dishes and put the food away. After a few minutes he appeared in her doorway. He watched her a moment before breaking the silence.

"Is this what you've been doing? Staring at the ceiling for two weeks?"

"I'm thinking," Rachel said.

"What about?"

"About how to handle all this."

"Just go talk to her."

"It's not that simple." Seeing that Evan was ready to object, Rachel spoke quickly, "I know, I know, 'Make things simple.' That's what I'm trying to do."

"What's the complication?" Evan asked.

"She may not want to talk to me when she gets back. When she asked me to go with her, she had this look in her eyes, like it was the last time she would put herself on the line for me."

"Good for her."

"Excuse me?"

"It sounds like all she's done is put herself on the line for you. That's not fair," Evan explained. "It's your turn."

Rachel sighed and patted the space next to her, "Sit with me?" Evan walked to the bed and lied down, wrapping his arms around Rachel as she leaned her head against his chest. "How do I do this?" she asked.

"You fight for her. Write her a letter, call her, go see her. Do or say whatever you have to do to make her see that this time is different."

Having her brother nearby, Rachel finally began to feel a sense of calm. For the time being, her fears were quieted. She curled into his side and began to drift off to sleep.

* * *

It was early when Rachel began to stir. When her eyes crept open, the room was bathed in a dusky blue light. She sat up carefully, so as not to wake Evan, and glanced over to the clock.

Five a.m.

Usually she would be starting her day now. Instead, she lied back down and looked to the ceiling. This had become a routine of sorts. She'd wake early after sleeping only a few hours, then lie staring at the ceiling in lament, leaving the bed only if necessary. But today was different.

Rachel pulled herself out of bed. She made her way to the kitchen, and put on a pot of coffee. For the first time in weeks, she didn't want to curl up and go back to sleep. She settled into her normal routine–coffee, breakfast, and a newspaper–and was enjoying the quiet return to normalcy. When the smells of food and coffee had penetrated the apartment Evan came lumbering out of the bedroom in search of breakfast. He joined Rachel at the table, took a long pull from his coffee cup, and grabbed a discarded section of the paper.

"How long have you been up?" he asked from behind the paper.

"About an hour. I haven't been sleeping well."

"That's heartache for you," Evan mumbled.

"It's different today," Rachel said. "I feel better."

"One conversation and you're all fixed? I must be getting better at this."

Rachel smiled briefly before turning somber and pulling the newspaper from her brother's face. "I can't be afraid of this anymore," Rachel told him. "The only thing I have to lose is her."

"Good," Evan said, smiling broadly. "Use some of that Galvin charm to win her over."

"It's going to take a lot more than that."

"You have a plan?"

"Nope. I was hoping you had one," Rachel smirked as Evan scoffed at her. "I don't know what I'm going to do, but I feel like if don't go after her, I'll hold this pain in my heart forever."

"Well, look who went to Emerald City and came back with a medal."

"And with that, Scarecrow, you've just roped yourself into helping me."

Evan smiled and smacked his forehead in mock frustration, "What can I do?"

"Help me write a letter?" Rachel asked. "You're good at that stuff–waxing poetic without being afraid."

"No, no, no. No flowery words, just honesty. Apologize, tell her why you're afraid, tell her you love her."

"I didn't say I loved her. I just want to be with her."

"So write it down. No holding back."

Rachel leapt to her feet and rushed from the room. Evan quickly followed his sister to her desk and they began drafting and discarding words. Any time Rachel attempted to withhold details, Evan would encourage her to push forward. With his reassurance, Rachel compiled a letter detailing all the shortcomings and misgivings that had led her into such a mess. She scrawled multiple pages so frenetically that she hoped her earnest wouldn't overwhelm Thirteen. In sentence after sentence, she poured out every detail she could comfortably reveal. When she was satisfied to stop, Rachel closed the letter simply:

I am so incredibly sorry. I hope I haven't pushed you away for good. I hope you can forgive me. Please believe that this time is different.

–Rachel

* * *

The next morning Rachel bounded out of bed. Without wasting any time, she quickly showered and dressed. Evan was in the kitchen fixing coffee when she called to him, "Are you about ready to head home, Ev?"

"I'm not leaving until I'm sure you're on the mend and off to work", he yelled back. He looked up as he heard the clicking of heels against the hardwood and Rachel walked out dressed for the office. "Which apparently you are. Great. Drop me off at the train station on the way?" Rachel nodded and he gathered his things, guzzled down his coffee, and followed his sister out the door.

Their drive to the train station was peaceful and quiet. Having finally made a decision, Rachel felt a sort of certainty. Her ease flooded the car and Evan was relieved. Rachel walked Evan out to the track of the quaint station and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you for coming to fix me up."

Evan returned the hug firmly and shrugged, "That's my job–to leave you better than when I found you. You'll call and let me know how everything works out?" He felt Rachel nod against his shoulder before he pulled back to look at her.

"I will, I promise," she said.

Evan jabbed her arm playfully and smiled, "Go get your girl."


	13. Chapter 13

Lucky chapter 13! It's short, but the next one definitely won't be. I'm a little nervous about this part. House and Cuddy make appearances and they're tough to nail, so let me know how I did. I'm glad you're all liking Evan. I'm not sure how many more appearances he'll make, but he will be around. Thanks to all my reviewers. You guys are great!

* * *

Rachel was buried in paperwork. She had only been at the hospital for a few hours and she was already drowning in the day. Intake evaluations, patient histories, insurance forms; they all swarmed her desk and demanded attention. She was buzzing back and forth between her desk and filing cabinet when her assistant walked in.

"Rachel, Dr. Cuddy wants to see you. Something about budget reports."

"Thanks, Amy," Rachel said. "I'm on it."

Rachel grabbed a handful of files and rushed out of her office. As she headed to see Cuddy, she felt like she had been sent to the principal's office. A sense of dread began to fill her and she knocked quickly before walking in.

"You needed to see me?" she asked. When Cuddy turned to face her, Rachel's eyes bugged out. The sweater she was wearing scooped far beyond the normal standards of low cut. Carefully redirecting her sightline, Rachel locked eyes with her boss.

"I need to review your budget reports before I leave for the conference."

"Here you go," Rachel said. She dropped her gaze to the floor as she laid the files on Cuddy's desk. "Did you need anything else?"

"How are you feeling?" Cuddy asked.

"Great. I got a lot of rest."

"Maybe I should send you for a physical. You're almost never sick. In five years you've never been out more than a few days due to illness."

"I was just a little under the weather. I'm fine now," Rachel insisted.

"I need to be sure you're okay, Dr. Galvin," Cuddy said reassuringly. "Now you can either tell me or spend the rest of the day undergoing tests."

Rachel sighed, "There were some difficult things going on in my personal life and I was feeling a little depressed. But, I honestly feel better now."

"Okay," Cuddy nodded. "See you next week."

Rachel released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and rushed from Cuddy's office. She tried to ignore the thoughts of Thirteen that had stirred during her questioning. For the time being they were too distracting. As if to prove the point, Rachel knocked harshly into someone while rounding the corner.

"I'm so sorry, Dr. House," Rachel apologized. She looked him over, concerned that she might have jarred his bad leg, but he seemed fine.

"Dr. Galvin," House boomed. "Haven't seen you around the halls lately."

"I took a short vacation," Rachel said.

"Good. I was beginning to think this hospital had lost both of its resident bisexuals. Then what reason would I have to come to work?"

"There's always Cuddy," Rachel smiled slightly and raised an eyebrow salaciously. "She discovered an entirely new level of low cut today."

"You've always been my favorite," House said, leaning towards Rachel. "Don't tell Thirteen."

Rachel recoiled a bit at the mention of Thirteen. Certain that House had noticed, she tried her best to sound casual, "Dr. Hadley's no longer my patient."

"Course not," House shrugged. "It's probably for the best, though. Fondling a friend that looks like that is bound to get confusing. Although, she is single now, so–"

"Do you have a point, House, or are you simply indulging your own fantasies?" When she tried to continue her way to her office, House stuck his cane in her path, effectively herding her back to where she stood.

"Try any Som tam on your trip?" House asked.

Rachel understood the reference immediately and House was beginning to tread on topics that were too close for her liking. "You're confusing your bisexuals. Thirteen's the one visiting Thailand."

"And you knew that."

"She's my friend," Rachel shrugged. "Of course I knew that."

"And you left shortly after Thirteen did. Now either you met her there and suddenly got homesick, or you stayed here and suddenly got Thirteen-sick."

"Or I went to Brooklyn to visit my brother," Rachel interjected.

"The first would mean she's gotten over Foreman and under you. In which case Thirteen moves a lot faster than I thought," House said, ignoring Rachel. "The second would mean you're depressed because she won't get under you. In which case I'm much less impressed by your mojo."

"My mojo is fine."

House studied Rachel for a moment, "So, you had nothing to do with her leaving?"

Rachel looked House in the eye surely. "We're just friends," she said sadly.

House nodded and moved his cane out of her way. Wasting no time, Rachel darted back to her department. She quickly retreated to the haven of her office, shut her door and leaned against it heavily. Things had to get easier. She had to do something before she crumbled under the weight of her own emotions.

* * *

That night Rachel drove to Thirteen's apartment. Once inside, she hovered by the door for a few moments. Her nerves had gotten the best of her. She wasn't sure if Thirteen had returned from her trip, or if she'd want to see her if she had. When she had finally screwed up her courage, Rachel knocked on the door timidly. With no response, she tried again more forcefully. After waiting a few more moments, she began to knock a third time, but a gruff voice behind her caused her to stop.

"You can quit your knocking. She's not home."

Rachel turned to see an older man standing by the stairwell. "Are you sure?"

The man nodded, "She suspended her utilities. She said she'd call when she was coming back."

Rachel quickly fished into her purse and retrieved a scrap of paper. She scribbled her name and phone number down and handed it to the man. "Could you call me when she gets back? I'd really appreciate it."

The man stared sternly at Rachel, "I don't think my tenants would appreciate me giving out their whereabouts."

Rachel pulled out her wallet and grabbed a twenty-dollar bill. Along with the scrap of paper, she pressed it into his hand. "This is important. Like I said, I'd really appreciate it."

The man nodded and walked off and Rachel turned back to the door. She took out the letter she had written for Thirteen and slipped it under the door. Having done all she could for the moment, she walked off solemnly.

* * *

Days later, Rachel was amidst a sea of papers again. She was finally beginning to make headway, but her phone had been ringing off the hook all afternoon. She was just returning from a meeting when her cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Is this Miss Galvin?" a man asked.

Rachel quickly recognized the voice of Thirteen's landlord. "It is," she replied eagerly.

"Thought you'd want to know Miss Hadley's just returned home."

"Thank you, so much," Rachel said before hanging up. Without thinking, she dialed Thirteen's number. She nervously ran her hands through her hair as the other line rang. She wasn't at all surprised when it went to voicemail. "Remy, it's me. I–I, uh–welcome home. I was hoping I could see you. I thought maybe–just give me a call, please."

Rachel hung up the phone quickly. There was a tense, tight sort of sickness swirling around her stomach. Suddenly she felt nauseous. Her neck felt stiff, her throat went dry, and there was a fit of fidgetiness spreading over her body. She had never felt so nervous.

* * *

The next morning as she readied herself for work, the nauseous, antsy feeling was creeping over Rachel again. She checked her phone but there were no calls or messages. After a debating a while, she called Thirteen once more.

"Remy, it's me again," Rachel said, trying hard to sound cheery. "I don't know if I said it before, but I'm sorry. All the things I said before you left–I was being unbelievably stupid. I'd like to make it up to you if you'll let me. Please, please call me back."

Disappointed, Rachel went off to work. She went through the day distractedly. She didn't hear questions, she missed phone calls, and she was utterly disorganized. Hearing from Thirteen was all she could think about. The waiting was driving her crazy. If she could only see Thirteen or hear her voice she might be able to put her mind at ease. Rachel's usual confidence was shaken. For the first time in a long while she didn't know how to get what she wanted.

* * *

The next couple of days passed Rachel by in a dull hum. She holed herself up in her office, hiding out and tapping a pen anxiously while she prepared to meet with a patient. Rachel looked at her cell phone. She had called Thirteen a few more times but still received no response. Without hesitation, she dialed Thirteen's number again. After ringing a few times the familiar sound of her voicemail came on the line. Used to the drill by now, Rachel took a deep breath and began to leave her message.

"Remy… I just–I don't know what to say anymore. I don't know if you're even listening to these messages or if you're ignoring my calls completely. I suppose continuing to call isn't going to get me anywhere, but I understand. If this is what it takes to make up for all the fucked up things I did, then I will wear my mistakes. I will wait as long as it takes for you to forgive me. If you can forgive me. And if I hurt you, then I'm sorry. I just hope you'll call me. Please, please call me."

Rachel hung up with a sigh and left to meet her patient. She approached the therapy suite after what seemed like ages. Waiting for her was a middle-aged man and his wife. "Mr. and Mrs. Adler, how are you?" she greeted them dully. "How are you feeling today, Mr. Adler." Rachel was vaguely aware of the man responding as she checked his chart. She heard him speaking and knew how she should respond, but she couldn't really process what he was saying. She smiled faintly and tried to look present. "You seem to be making steady progress. I'm going to order some medication for you, then one of the physiotherapists will take over." Rachel darted to the pharmacy, grabbed a prescription, and headed back to her patient. She made sure he took the pills, then went over the procedure with him. As soon as the physiotherapist walked in, she excused herself and retreated to her office.

Rachel was still having a hard time sleeping. She had spent the last few nights tossing in bed fitfully. She quickly slipped into her office and locked the door. She turned off the lights before laying her weary head on her desk and falling into a light slumber. Barely an hour passed before her phone rang, breaking her uncomfortable sleep. Rachel picked up the phone, answering the person on the line with a sleepy grumble of acknowledgement.

"What is it?"

"Dr. Galvin, we have a problem."

* * *

Rachel stood in Cuddy's office staring stubbornly at the floor. Her hands were stuffed in her pockets and her jaw was tightly clenched. She didn't say a word as Cuddy berated her.

"You said you were fine. I can't have you practicing like this. You're distracted. Now your mistake has not only put the hospital at risk, but you put the patient at risk. I want you to have a psych consult," Cuddy demanded.

"You can't make me do that. I won't consent."

"You will unless you want to be suspended."

"I made a mistake, Lisa. No one got hurt."

"You gave Mr. Adler muscle relaxants before a massage. He can't move his arm!"

"Mr. Adler is a forty-year-old tennis player with a torn rotator cuff. He'll be fine," Rachel insisted. "Are House's screw ups the only ones you can forgive?"

"You are out of line, Dr. Galvin," Cuddy warned.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not. You have made all kinds of concessions for House and his team. The rest of us make bad calls, too. I made a huge mistake. I know. I'll take my suspension, I'll apologize to the patient, I'll do whatever you want, but I will not talk about my personal life with any of your doctors."

Cuddy sighed and rubbed her temples, "Ten days suspension and no patient contact for a month after that. Before you return to work I want documentation from a psychiatrist saying you are fit to practice medicine."

Rachel nodded and quietly left Cuddy's office. With her head hung low she walked to the elevator and slipped inside. She wedged herself into the corner of the car, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. When the elevator stopped at the next floor and someone joined her, she snuck a glance.

"Hey," Foreman offered. He was standing opposite her and looking more frustrated than usual.

"Hi," Rachel replied, straightening up. He was the last person she wanted to see right now. She took a deep breath and tried not to let her anger overwhelm her.

"Have you heard from Remy?" Foreman blurted. "I heard she went on a trip, I was just wondering…" He sighed as Rachel glared at him harshly. "I know I have no right to ask, I just wanted to know how she was doing."

"Honestly, I haven't heard from her," Rachel said. "But if I had, I wouldn't tell you. That shouldn't be an issue, though. When I see her again she probably won't want to speak to me either."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not the only idiot in her life."

"Excuse me?" Foreman asked resentfully.

"I said you're an idiot. And so am I. You screwed up as her boyfriend, I screwed up as whatever the hell I was supposed to be, and now she's trying to move on."

"So, you're just going to accept that she refuses to talk to either of us? You're going to let her walk out of your life?"

"You know as well as I do that you can't force Remy to do anything she doesn't want to do. There's only one thing for it," Rachel said, stepping off the elevator as it reached her floor. "We have to move on, too."

* * *

By the next day Rachel had resumed her old routine. With her blinds drawn against the afternoon sun, she was lying in bed staring at the ceiling again. Her chest was tight with frustration and nausea was swimming in her empty stomach. She checked her phone again. No missed calls, no new messages, and no word from Thirteen. She sat up and quickly called her brother, tapping her foot anxiously while it rang. Her frustration began to build as his answering machine picked up.

"Don't put me through this esoteric 'where's my phone?' bullshit. Pick up!" she yelled at the machine.

There was a brief clatter as Evan finally picked up. "I'm here, I'm here," he mumbled.

"Tell me not to give up," Rachel demanded.

"What?"

"I've called her five times in the last three days and still nothing."

"You got the letter to her?"

"Yeah, but I don't know if she read it. I don't know what to do. I'm losing it. I was so distracted over this I got suspended from work."

"Don't give up," Evan told her. "Go see her and resolve this. All you have to lose is her, right?"

"Right," Rachel agreed.

Ending the call quickly, Rachel got dressed and headed out. She drove to Thirteen's, charged to the door, and knocked before she could talk herself out of it. She knocked again and again, but after ten minutes, she was fairly certain Thirteen wasn't home. Rachel thought to herself for a moment before realizing where she might be. She set out on foot, walking briskly towards one of Thirteen's usual haunts.


	14. Chapter 14

No foreplay/chit-chat this time. At almost 6k words, here's the chapter some of you've been waiting for. Thank to all my reviewers.

* * *

Thirteen sat perched at the counter of her favorite diner. After an interview, she had stopped in for a leisurely lunch. Her trip had been wonderful, but now that she was home, all the issues she had tried to escape were staring her in the face again. She was still looking for a new job and, strangely, House had begun dropping into her life as well. And of course there was Rachel. It was becoming more and more difficult for Thirteen to resist calling her. She had listened to her last message nearly a dozen times. It wasn't that she didn't believe Rachel or even that she didn't want to forgive her. She had simply made herself too vulnerable and gotten nothing in return for too long.

For the time being, she was trying to unwind. All thoughts of lost love or job hunting were banished as she tried to let everything go. She scribbled intently in a scrapbook, making notes about her trip while they were still fresh in her mind. Things were going according to plan until a voice from behind interrupted.

"Looks like quite a trip," Foreman said.

Thirteen turned and glared at him crossly as she looked him over. He carried himself with his usual air of smugness and it did nothing for her mood. She quickly turned back to her project and hoped his visit would be brief.

"It was," she replied, trying to move things along. "Did House send you to talk to me?"

"No," Foreman said.

"Then there's nothing to talk about. I don't want to work for him."

Foreman stepped closer and leaned towards her, "You're a great doctor. House is right to want you in the mix."

Thirteen looked back at him. He was usually blunt and direct, but now he was sidestepping the point. "Are you saying this because you still have feelings for me and you want me back?"

"I'm saying that shouldn't be an issue."

"Do you have feelings for me or not?" Thirteen asked. It was the last thing she wanted, but she had to know. Just once she wanted him to drop the pretense. She needed at least one person in her life to be honest.

Foreman hesitated. "I don't want our work life to have anything to do with our personal life," he hedged.

"You couldn't keep them separate," Thirteen smirked. "And that's why our personal life doesn't exist." She looked away from him again. She shouldn't have been surprised. Foreman could barely tell her the truth when they were together. He had never been the type to admit to making mistakes, or having feelings, or really anything that might indicate that he was actually human.

He sat down next to her and continued his appeal, "None of that has to–"

"I can't work with you," she said sharply.

"Actually, you can," Foreman replied calmly. "I was the one who had the problem. I don't anymore." He quickly stood and left while Thirteen considered his words.

Before she had a chance to recover, Thirteen turned to see Rachel walking towards her from the door on the other side of the diner. Discerning the look on Rachel's face, Thirteen assumed she had been there long enough to see her talking to Foreman.

"He was–"

"Don't tell me. I want to say this without losing my nerve," Rachel started. "I'm sorry about what I said before you left. I get scared sometimes when I don't know how to handle things and I have no idea how to handle relationships. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to confuse you for problems in myself, or take things out on you. I want to make things good for you. I want to be good for you. I want to be with you."

Thirteen looked at Rachel dumbly for a moment before slapping a few bills on the counter and gathering her things. "This really isn't the place for this."

Rachel nodded sadly, "I'm sorry. I'll go."

She quickly turned to leave but Thirteen caught her by the wrist. "Don't. I just meant we should talk about this privately."

Thirteen and Rachel slipped out of the diner and made their way back to Thirteen's apartment. They each had their hands stuffed awkwardly in their pockets as they tried to find a way to talk to each other.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said again. "For everything. I thought I was doing the right thing."

"You said that in your letter."

"You read it?"

Thirteen nodded, "I did. It was beautiful. I got your messages, too. Sorry I didn't call you back."

"You don't have to apologize. I understand. I'm sure you're more than a little upset with me."

"I'm not actually," Thirteen said, shaking her head quickly. "I mean, I was when you rejected me at the hospital and stood me up at the airport, but I let it go. I guess all that Buddhism rubbed off on me." Thirteen let out a small laugh and looked over at Rachel. "You know what's weird? The first time you called me I had been back for about two minutes. How'd you know I was home?"

"Oh," Rachel cleared her throat nervously. "I, uh… bribed your landlord." Thirteen laughed again and Rachel felt at ease.

The pair had soon reached their destination and Thirteen unlocked her door and lead Rachel in. She suddenly felt nervous as Rachel stared at her strangely. "What?"

Rachel shook her head, "Nothing, I just–God, I missed you. I missed talking to you and seeing you. I even missed your jack-in-the-box visits."

Thirteen smiled but it quickly faded, "How long until you run away from me again?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Rachel said certainly.

Thirteen stepped closer but kept her distance. "So, we're stuffing ourselves with turkey next week. Are you running yet?"

Rachel shook her head, "No."

"Six months down the line, we're so cute together it's disgusting. You still here?"

"Yes."

Thirteen stepped a little closer, "Your dad comes to visit, says you're exactly like him and you'll ruin my life. Are you going to push me away?"

"No," Rachel said. "But my father would never visit me."

Thirteen smirked and closed the rest of the distance between herself and Rachel. She trailed her hands up Rachel's neck and pulled her in until their lips met softly. Without letting go she pulled back slightly and searched Rachel's eyes for any sign of hesitation. Rachel quickly resumed the kiss, bringing Thirteen even closer. She slowly moved from Thirteen's lips to her neck to her collarbone with her fingertips delicately tracing the way. Thirteen let out a breathy sigh and before long she had Rachel pressed against a wall. She ran her hand over Rachel's taut stomach before quickly pulling her shirt free of her body.

Rachel peeled off Thirteen's pants, following the gentle curves of her hips and thighs along the way. Her hands wasted no time in burning a path up Thirteen's shirt, before it too was stripped. She felt her own jeans fall by the wayside, and Thirteen was suddenly tugging at her bra.

Before long, all clothing had fallen away and Thirteen was leading Rachel to her bed. Still preoccupied with Rachel's mouth, she knocked into the mattress, crashing down on her back with Rachel on top of her. Without delay, Rachel was gently repositioning them. She kissed her way down Thirteen's chest while caressing one of her breasts. Rachel ran her warm tongue over the nipple, then rolled it lightly with her full lips.

Her long fingers ghosted over a soft patch of skin covering Thirteen's ribs. Thirteen bit her lip sharply and swallowed a groan. Smiling, Rachel made a note to remember the spot and nipped at it playfully with her teeth. The sensation made Thirteen gasp as Rachel continued placing kisses down her body. She trailed her tongue over the crest of Thirteen's hip while her hands made soft patterns on the insides of her thighs.

Rachel suddenly returned to Thirteen's lips. She leaned against Thirteen's forehead until she looked into her eyes eagerly. With Thirteen writhing in her grasp, Rachel slowly pressed two fingers into her. Thirteen's breath hitched and she slammed her head back before her own fingers slid deeply into Rachel's center.

As they gained momentum, Rachel recaptured Thirteen's lips. They gasped and moaned into each other's mouths in between kisses. One pulling ragged breaths from the other, they panted in unison as they drew closer. Thirteen arched her back as her hips began to snake. Her body began to shudder and she felt Rachel's do the same. She pulled Rachel closer as their bodies tensed and went rigid before spasming together wildly. With their trembling slowly subsiding they lay there, intoxicated, in each other's arms. They poured into each other's bodies. Something ethereal surrounded them both and pulled them together. They seemed to float.

* * *

When the world reassembled around them, Rachel and Thirteen were still laying tangled in each other. Curled on her side, Rachel was tracing small circles on Thirteen's back while she lay on her stomach with her arms wrapped around a pillow. Thirteen furrowed her brow unconsciously as she gazed at Rachel.

"Why do you look upset?" Rachel asked.

"I'm not," Thirteen said quietly.

"You look it."

"You're still here."

"I said I would be."

"You've said that before. The funny thing is I believed you then, but now…"

"You don't believe me?"

"No," Thirteen replied shaking her head. "I want to, but I just don't see what's different now."

"I'm done running."

"But why?" Thirteen pressed. "When people get too close you push them away. You did it to me over and over again. So, why are you suddenly done pushing me away?"

"Because I'm in love with you," Rachel answered. She watched Thirteen's eyes light up with surprise. "All the running and the worries and fears, I'm done with that. I love you, and I want to be with you."

"And you realized all of this in a month?"

"Sort of. I thought it would be easier with you gone, but I was more distracted. So much so that I had to take some time off from work," Rachel said, sliding closer to Thirteen. "But I had a lot of time to think while you were away. I had a lot of long conversations with my brother and he helped me see that I couldn't keep hiding from what I felt for you. It was either step up or lose you."

"And all your fears about hurting me or being close to me, they're gone?"

"God, no. I'm terrified. But I promise you I will do everything in my power to keep that from happening."

"You'll work to keep me safe?"

Rachel nodded, "I will."

"Didn't I say something like that a few months ago?" Thirteen chuckled.

Rachel looked away sheepishly, "Not that I can recall."

"Uh-huh," Thirteen mumbled. Her expression turned serious for a moment, "I should probably tell you that I'm not in love with you–at least not yet. There's definitely a falling sensation."

Rachel smiled broadly, "That's okay. I didn't say it to have you say it back, I said it because I felt it."

"So, tell me, what happened to make you so afraid that you'd hurt me?"

Rachel looked away for a moment. For a while she said nothing, but when she met Thirteen's eyes again, she seemed resolved to answer. "I was married once," she said softly. "The summer after undergrad I eloped with my boyfriend. I brought him home to meet my family and my father was the most contemptible asshole he could possibly be. He said something–blamed me for something I still can't forgive him for. After that, things fell apart. I pulled away from everyone. I accepted a spot at Hopkins, which was not at all what I'd decided with my husband. I just packed my things and left for med school. I didn't tell anyone. I didn't even return his phone calls. He came to visit me and all I could do was scream at him. He spent months trying to work things out. All he did was love me and worry about me, and I just ignored him. After a while, he filed for annulment."

"What did your dad–"

"Father," Rachel corrected.

"What did your father blame you for? What could make you act like that?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Rachel shook her head as she blinked back tears, "I swear I'll tell you one day, but not now."

Thirteen nodded and tenderly kissed the bridge of Rachel's nose. She pulled her into a tight hug and Rachel released a heavy sigh. Thirteen glanced at the clock, "Do you have to get back to work soon?"

"Nope. I'm on suspension."

Thirteen's jaw dropped, "What happened?"

"You distracted me."

"No, no, no," Thirteen replied. "I wasn't even here."

"But I was thinking about you constantly. I couldn't focus and I gave one of my patients a muscle relaxant before a massage. He misperceived how much pressure the therapist was using and there was some minor tissue damage."

"How much trouble are you in?"

"A lot. I'm out for ten days, then I can't see patients directly for a month."

"Wow," Thirteen gasped.

"I also may have mouthed off to Cuddy a little," Rachel started. "But she tried to send me to the psych department. I never should have told her I was depressed."

"You can't tell Cuddy something like that. She'll use against you every time."

"She's not malicious, she's just doing her job."

"Of course, but still. What were you thinking?"

Rachel laced her fingers between Thirteen's, "I was thinking 'I'm completely in love with this amazing girl and I may have fucked it up for good.'"

"You didn't," Thirteen replied quickly. She tried to hide the blush spreading rapidly across her cheeks. "So what will you do with all this free time?"

Rachel shrugged, "Spend some time with you. Relax at home, I guess."

"I think you should stay here," Thirteen said, arching an eyebrow. "It's obvious you don't do so well on your own." Thirteen's explanation was thinly veiled and she smiled coyly.

"Okay," Rachel said after a moment. "But only to convince you that I'm not going anywhere."

Thirteen nodded, "I should lay down some ground rules then."

"Such as?"

"You can come and go as you please as long as you're in by eight."

"You're giving me a curfew?"

"Yes. And I think you should cook for me."

"Now you're just taking advantage."

"So," Thirteen giggled. "You've got to do something for wasting my generously offered airline ticket."

"You said you bought it with your miles. That doesn't count."

"It does."

"Fine," Rachel conceded. She thought to herself for a moment, "I think I should start courting you as well. Real old-fashioned like."

Thirteen frowned, "So, you'll share a malt with me after the sock hop?"

"Small gifts, sweet gestures."

Thirteen smiled, "Why couldn't you be this romantic before I left? I had very high hopes for you to come with me. I kept daydreaming about Rachel and Remy's Wild Thai Adventure."

"You have quite the imagination," Rachel said, letting out a deep laugh. "It is a shame I wasn't ready then. But now, the door is wide open for other seriously sexy adventures."

Rachel pressed her body into Thirteen's and kissed her deeply. She let her hands roam down Thirteen's stomach and towards her hips. Before she could finish her seductive journey, Rachel's stomach growled forcefully. She threw her head back and scoffed in frustration as Thirteen collapsed in a fit of laughter.

"I don't think any of those adventures start with an empty stomach," Thirteen said, still laughing. She pulled herself from Rachel's arms and bounded to the kitchen. After a few minutes she returned with a tray filled with take-out boxes. She set the tray on the bed and crawled back under the sheets. She handed Rachel a pair of chopsticks and offered her one of the boxes.

"You spend a month in Thailand, then come home and order Thai food?" Rachel asked, tucking into the food.

"I'm researching," Thirteen mumbled through a mouthful of noodles. "I got food from every Thai place in the area. I'm trying to find the most authentic."

"I think this is pretty spot on. And I see your chopstick skills have really improved."

"Absolutely," Thirteen said smiling. To prove herself, she scooped up a mess of noodles and offered them to Rachel, who very happily took them. Thirteen grinned so hard her jaw began to hurt, "I'm really glad you came here today."

Rachel felt the warmth of Thirteen's smile settle on her. As she returned the silly grin she leaned over and kissed Thirteen with all she had. "Me too."

* * *

That following morning, Thirteen woke with a start. As she reached over to the opposite side of the bed, she found it empty and cold. Rachel had long since left. But her worries were quickly put to rest. The air was thick with a heady blend of coffee and flowers and she could hear the clanking of cookware coming from the kitchen. She leapt out of bed and quickly headed to the kitchen. The minute she left her bedroom, Thirteen was overwhelmed by flowers. They were everywhere and in every color. In every available glass, bottle, or jar there was a bouquet of flowers. Her desk, her coffee table–even the windowsills were lined with flowers. Thirteen stood with her mouth agape as Rachel buzzed around the kitchen, obviously pleased by her response. Rachel casually sipped a cup of coffee before handing Thirteen her own. "Sleep well?" she asked.

"What's with–"

"I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I got a few different varieties."

"How did you get a florist to do all of this so early?"

"When you tell a florist you want a gross of flowers they tend to move pretty quickly," Rachel smiled.

Thirteen's eyes widened, "There are twelve dozen flowers here?"

Rachel nodded, "Roses, tulips, lilies, daisies, irises, carnations, poms, snapdragons, lisianthus, chrysanthemums, dahlias–and my favorites–sunflowers."

"Wow," Thirteen said breathily. "For the record, it's daisies, sunflowers, lilies."

"Top three?" Rachel asked.

"Usually," Thirteen said. She picked up a bouquet from her desk and inhaled deeply. "These dahlias are kind of blowing everything else away."

"Can I make you something?"

"I'm kind of bare except for the take-out. I really need to get groceries."

"Did it," Rachel said. "I also picked up some things from place."

"How did you have a whole day before ten a.m.?"

Rachel shrugged, "Too much free time only seems to get me into trouble."

"Come to the gym with me then? I'd love to watch you work out for a change."

Rachel nodded and graced Thirteen with a peck on the cheek, "I'll go get ready."

* * *

Half an hour later, Thirteen found herself mesmerized by a bead of sweat making its way down Rachel's chest as she ran. She had stumbled on her treadmill more than a few times and was dangerously close to falling this time.

"If you don't keep your eyes forward you'll fly off that thing," Rachel said.

"I can't help it, you look sexy," Thirteen said, between breaths.

Just as Rachel had warned, Thirteen stumbled and fell from the treadmill. Jumping from her own machine, Rachel grabbed Thirteen by the arm before she could lose her balance completely.

"Why don't you move on to core work and I'll go get a smoothie or something so you can concentrate."

Thirteen nodded as she watched Rachel walk away. She quickly found another distraction as a strange sight caught her eye. A few treadmills down, House was limping along, cane and all. As she approached him, he was making an undoubtedly sarcastic comment to the person next to him.

"What are you doing here?" Thirteen asked.

"Waiting for to take a nap so I can surge into the lead," House said nonchalantly. Thirteen quickly walked away from him and headed for the sit-up machine. Not surprisingly, House followed her. "What's the best way to restore the liver in someone with sclerosing cholangitis?"

"I'm not getting drawn into this," Thirteen said quickly.

"You already are," House countered.

"Because you crashed my workout?" Thirteen asked. She carried on with her workout and tried to ignore her former boss.

"Because you're doing core training, which improves balance, which staves off the most debilitating symptoms of Huntington's." To Thirteen's displeasure, House sat down at an empty machine nearby and continued analyzing her. "You've ended your self-destructive streak and want to do something significant, something that'll last longer than the few years you have left. My team is your first best choice."

"And my first choice is the community health clinic I interviewed with yesterday."

House nodded, "Absolutely, you should do that–three hours a week. Every doctor should, because every doctor can. But you don't want to be every doctor. Plus, on my team, you get to screw with Foreman. Every way but literally."

"Why are you doing it this way," Thirteen asked, taking a break to catch her breath. "You're pretending to assume we're all coming back without actually asking us. Why?"

House smiled, "See, this is why you'd be miserable wiping noses in a clinic."

Thirteen rolled her eyes and removed herself from the machine. "You can't ask because you can't face the rejection. Why not? What's going on?"

"Are you asking me to ask you?"

Thirteen shook her head, "I'm saying you shouldn't. For your sake as well as mine."

Thirteen quickly left the gym, leaving House to his own devices. She met up with Rachel in the locker room and started to pace anxiously.

"House is here," she mumbled in annoyance.

"I know. He's sort of hard to miss."

"He's offering me my old job back. I can't let him drag me back there."

"Would you breathe for a second?" Rachel muttered. She grabbed Thirteen before she could double back and continue pacing. "If you don't want to work for him just say no."

"I've said no. To him, to Foreman. They just keep popping up in my life."

"Come on, let's get out of here."

Rachel took Thirteen by the hand and started from the locker room. When they reached the car, Rachel confiscated Thirteen's keys. With her frustration growing she was in no shape to drive.

"Don't let them get to you. Figure out what you want and do it," Rachel said reassuringly. "What are your options?"

"There's this clinic in Pennsauken. I think it's my best option."

Rachel raised an eyebrow at Thirteen, "You want to work in Pennsauken? Pennsauken is dull. It's a comatose little town. It's–"

"A shithole?"

"I was going to say ordinary, but shithole works."

"I think I'll get bored," Thirteen said, rubbing her temple. "In fact, I know I'll get bored. But it would be easy and normal. Things would be so much simpler."

"But you wouldn't be happy."

"You think I should go back to House?"

Rachel shook her head, "I think you should find something that really fulfills you. Don't settle for a job you'll hate just because you're running from the alternative."

* * *

When they returned home, the couple quickly showered, dressed, and tended to business. As Rachel grabbed a notepad from Thirteen's desk she noticed the papers piled in the tray of her fax machine.

"Rem, you've got half a dozen case files here from House."

Thirteen groaned loudly, "Just leave them. He'll give up eventually."

"Are we talking about the same House?"

Rachel left the desk for Thirteen and settled on the couch with her laptop. After a while she felt a gentle rapping from the back of the couch. She glanced behind her, a huge smile already teasing her face. Thirteen was sitting on the floor behind the couch, playfully intent on bugging Rachel.

"What are you doing?" Thirteen asked.

Rachel glanced back to the list on her computer before setting it aside. "I have to see a shrink before I can go back to work," she sighed. "I've really had enough couch time in my life."

"You could go see my doctor."

"You see a psychiatrist?"

Thirteen nodded and hopped over the couch's back. "I started seeing her a few months after my diagnosis." She cocked her head to the side as Rachel pouted, "What?"

"Well, I'm just a little offended. You could have told me you were seeing another therapist."

Thirteen rolled her eyes before wrapping her arms around Rachel's waist and placing small kisses along her jaw. "You're the only therapist I get physical with."

"I should hope so. A psychiatrist is not qualified to perform physiotherapy."

"Rachel," Thirteen groaned, rolling her eyes again.

Rachel smiled cheekily, "Oh, you meant sex."

Thirteen nodded and straddled Rachel. She leaned down and kissed Rachel's neck. Her hands played under Rachel's shirt, searching and exploring all the sensitive areas there were to find. She moved down to Rachel's stomach, alternating between soft kisses and errant nips. Rachel was panting softly as Thirteen unzipped her jeans. Still kissing, Thirteen gently inhaled the scent of Rachel's skin. She was deeply satisfied by the musk that rose from the junction of Rachel's thighs. She smiled mischievously as she pulled away from Rachel, somehow overcoming all the urges running through her mind.

"I've got to get back to work," Thirteen said with a smug smile.

Rachel narrowed her eyes, "Are you serious?"

"I'm afraid so," Thirteen got up from the couch and retreated to her desk, still smiling to herself.

"But you're out of work and waffling between jobs," Rachel whined. "That should afford you plenty of time for sex."

"If that's your idea of pillow talk, it needs work," Thirteen giggled.

When she was through teasing, Thirteen pulled out her laptop and got focused. She set to work, looking for new positions and better opportunities. They all seemed like dead ends. After working for House nothing seemed good enough. She could do so much more than these positions were asking. She was better than this.

As if to remind her, Thirteen's fax fired up and began printing a message. She glanced back at it briefly–it was from House, of course–feeling even more frustrated as the paper fell to the floor. With a sigh she jumped up and headed for the door.

"I'm going to get some air," she mumbled to Rachel.

The brisk fall air hit Thirteen with a bracing edge. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she paced the sidewalk. Crisp leaves, fireplace smoke, the scent of coming rain. The smells seemed to ground Thirteen in the moment, keeping her frustration from overcoming her. She took one last deep breath before heading back inside. She grabbed her mail and ducked inside her apartment where her phone was ringing.

"Do you want me to get that?" Rachel asked.

"Let it ring," Thirteen replied. She flipped through the letters in her hands as the answering machine picked up.

"Hi. Remy, this is Dr. Turner from the Pennsauken free clinic. We all loved meeting you, and well, the job's yours. Call me back. Let's pick a start date."

Thirteen walked to her fax machine and picked up the most recent file from House. She sat on her desk absentmindedly while she looked it over.

"I got the job," Thirteen called to Rachel. "They loved me."

Rachel rose from the couch and walked to Thirteen. "Congratulations. And also, who wouldn't?"

"They're going to ablate the patient's marrow. I don't get what's going on. This guy's been all over the place, DIC, sclerosing cholangitis liver failure, strongyloides, fluid in his lungs…"

"Are you trying to run a differential with me?" Rachel asked. "I'm a little out of practice."

"Sorry," Thirteen mumbled. "I can't get House's stupid whiteboard technique out of my head."

Rachel nodded, "Continue."

"Now he's bleeding out again, he went into arrest, and all his blood counts are down."

"When did the second set of symptoms start?"

Thirteen flipped through the files eagerly, "A few hours after they administered mebendazole."

"After they got rid of the worms," Rachel considered.

"Why the worms?" Thirteen asked aloud. "I've got to call Taub."

* * *

Rachel watched fixedly as Thirteen carried on another differential with Taub. As they tossed ideas back and forth, she seemed exhilarated. All the frustration she had been carrying earlier in the day was gone. Now she was animated, passionate, and completely engaged.

"Get House on the phone," Thirteen told Taub. There was a long pause as she waited to be connected with House. Rachel could hear bits of Taub's side of the conversation, but mostly there was a tense silence in the air. "Those threadworms, why would his body have gone to hell just hours after they were gone?" Thirteen paused while Taub filled in his end of the differential. "It's the hygiene hypothesis–why there's so much autoimmune disease in the developed world and almost none in the developing world," she offered. At this point, Thirteen was gesturing emphatically and a small twitch of excitement tugged at her lips. "Once you killed them, it started killing him." With a final nod, Thirteen hung up the phone and threw her hands in the air in victory.

Rachel smiled at her. "You got Crohn's from threadworms. That's damn good."

"I think I have to go back," Thirteen said.

Rachel nodded and kissed her quickly, "Welcome back, Thirteen."

That evening, Thirteen walked to House's office. Her eyes roamed the hallways. After being away, she had expected the hospital to seem small and confining. Instead it was still vast and a little daunting–she hadn't outgrown it.

She reached House's door as Taub was turning to leave. When it was her turn, Thirteen marched up to House's desk boldly. "I want my job back."

"And it sounds like you've worked out a tidy little list of conditions under which you'll return," House goaded. "I will give you none of them."

"No conditions," Thirteen replied. "I just want my job. If you'd like I can torture Foreman for you."

House smiled broadly, "Welcome back, Thirteen."

Thirteen smiled and rushed from the office. She wasted no time in grabbing a lab coat and tending to the patient. While she was filling him to the brim with parasites, Thirteen noticed Foreman watching her from the door. She returned her focus to her patient, and when she turned around again Foreman was gone.

When she had finished Thirteen returned to the office to collect her things. For a moment she relished how good it was to be back. There were so many little things she hadn't realized she had missed. The smell of stale coffee and dirty carpet, the annoying hum of florescent lights–it was all strangely pleasant.

As she grabbed her things and turned to leave Thirteen stopped short when saw Foreman standing by the door. She was hoping she'd be able to avoid this conversation a little longer, but her luck seemed to be running out.

"Hey," Foreman muttered.

"Hey."

"I just wanted to welcome you back on the team. I also wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any weirdness between us."

"No weirdness, Foreman. I'm not going to let anything personal get in the way of this job," Thirteen replied. "Are we good? I've got someone waiting for me."

Foreman simply nodded and stepped out of Thirteen's way.

* * *

When she returned home her apartment was filled with warmth, the smell of food, and the simple blanket like presence that comes from having another person around. It was incredibly heartening to come home to such a feeling.

Rachel greeted her with a kiss and whisked her away to the table. She served plates for them both before joining Thirteen for dinner.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

"Great. I did a little work tonight, but I officially start Monday."

"Did House give you a hard time?"

"No, it was a surprisingly stress-free night. A little awkward, but stress-free."

"What do you mean?"

"I had the post-breakup talk with Foreman," Thirteen replied. "He wanted to make sure things wouldn't be weird. I said they wouldn't be, but I don't think there's a way around it. Working with your ex is bound to be awkward."

"Well, if things get too uncomfortable I'll only be short trip away. Eventually."

Thirteen smirked, "I feel like I should celebrate. How do you celebrate a job you've already had?"

Rachel dashed to the kitchen and returned with two glasses and a chilled bottle of champagne. She shook the bottle slightly as she prepared to open it. "May I suggest a toast?"

"Rach, you really shouldn't shake–"

Before Thirteen could express her warning Rachel unwrapped the bottle and blown the cork. As the champagne began to erupt violently, Rachel quickly covered the mouth of the bottle with her thumb, causing it to spray overhead like rain. By the time the flow had staunched Rachel and Thirteen were covered in the sticky beverage and laughing hard. Rachel finally poured some into glasses and proposed her toast.

"To crazy bosses, weird exes, and starting over." Rachel clinked glasses with Thirteen and swooped in for a kiss. Covered in the beverage, the taste of champagne was just as strong on Thirteen's skin as it was from the glass. "You are incredibly tasty."

"Mmm," Thirteen purred, kissing Rachel again. "So are you. I only wish that House had waited a bit longer to decide he needed old recruits. This is seriously going to cut in on our time together. We haven't even been on a date yet."

Rachel shrugged, "That's easy enough to remedy. How do you feel about waterfront dining?"


	15. Chapter 15

Hey everybody. It's been a long time! I've been very busy, but I haven't forgotten you if you haven't forgotten me. Here's another long one for you. At this rate, I should get the Thanksgiving chapter up by, well, Thanksgiving. Enjoy!

* * *

Rachel tossed yet another dress onto her bed. She had been through nearly every dressy outfit she owned, including a few that had been bought just for the occasion. Tired of standing in her underwear, she went to her closet and pulled out the only garment left. It was a sleeveless little black dress. She remembered how confident she felt when the dress hugged her curves and set off her chest through ruched dip in the front, or how it shimmered a bit when the light hit it. She knew Thirteen would love it. She slipped it on and looked herself over in the mirror. Finally satisfied, Rachel added earrings and heels before giving herself one more look in the mirror. She was ready.

She grabbed her purse, her jacket, and a small velvet box before rushing out the door. Rachel had convinced Thirteen to let her go home and begin their date the "proper" way. "It's not really a date if I'm already here," she'd said. "Then we're just going out to dinner."

Rachel arrived at Thirteen's in no time. She made her way to the door and, though she had a key, very formally knocked. When Thirteen opened the door, Rachel was stunned. Thirteen's dress was blue and of a silky fabric that Rachel already wanted to pull off. "You look amazing," she managed to get out.

"Thanks," Thirteen said pulling her into the apartment. "So do you."

Thirteen leaned in for a kiss, but Rachel quickly jerked backward. "I don't kiss on the first date."

Thirteen raised an eyebrow, "You won't kiss on the first date, but you're okay with shacking and having sex with me everyday before the first date?"

"When you plan the date you can make the rules."

Thirteen shrugged and retrieved a bouquet of small sunflowers from the kitchen. "Since we're being formal and all."

"Thank you," Rachel said. "I have something for you, too." She pulled out the velvet box and opened it. Inside was a dainty silver necklace with a small briolette. The translucent stone seemed simply to be milky silver scattered with hundreds of black flecks, but when it caught the light, it showed flashes of blue, green, and turquoise.

Thirteen beamed with delight, "It's beautiful. What's the stone?"

"Labradorite," Rachel replied.

She pulled Thirteen to a mirror and placed the necklace around her neck. The chain was so delicate that Thirteen could barely notice it against her skin. The flashes in the stone matched the color of her eyes. "It's perfect," Thirteen gasped. "Thank you so much."

Rachel smiled bashfully, "You're welcome. We should get going."

"Where exactly are we going?" Thirteen asked. Rachel's only response was a devilish smirk and a shake of her head.

Rachel led Thirteen out to the car and began to open the door for her before stopping abruptly. "Before we go there's just one thing I want to say," she began nervously. "When you look at the menu you're going to see some very high numbers. I just want you to understand that I'm not trying to throw money at you or impress you. I mean, I am trying to impress you, but just with a nice dinner at a place I love."

"You're cute when you're nervous," Thirteen said. "But, why would I care if you have money?"

"I don't think you do, it's just caused problems before."

"No problems. I couldn't care less care about money."

"Good," Rachel said brightly. She settled Thirteen into the passenger seat before getting behind the wheel and pulling off.

Thirteen watched as they left Princeton behind them. They rode for a while, until they hit the highway and started onto the Turnpike. Curiously, Rachel seemed to be leaving the state altogether.

"Where are we going?" Thirteen asked again.

"North."

"But what's the destination?"

"It's a surprise," Rachel told her.

Thirteen sighed and turned to the window. The plentiful trees began to fade as the scenery became cluttered with the harsh abundance of metal that marked Central New Jersey. Rachel drove until the Turnpike ran out and they crossed into New York. Before long, she was turning onto the Verrazano Bridge. As traffic slowed to a crawl Thirteen threw her head back in impatience.

"Where are you taking me?" she whined petulantly.

"Just because you keep asking doesn't mean my answer will change." Rachel laughed as Thirteen let out a huffy sigh and went silent.

"You do have money then?" Thirteen asked after a while.

"Yes and no," Rachel said elusively. "Now you're curious about the money?"

"Well, I'm just wondering how much I should resent House's salary standards."

"I have enough to give you a fantastic night on the town."

"Don't be so evasive."

"This from the queen of evasion," Rachel said drolly.

"You said money has caused problems before, so this is obviously more than a good tax rebate. You also said you're taking me to a place you love, which means you've been there often enough to really get to know it."

"Or it's a restaurant I save for special occasions."

"No," Thirteen said quickly. "Now either you take all your dates there, in which case I'll be a little annoyed with you, or you go there on your own. Often."

"First off, I hate going to restaurants by myself. Second, I've never taken anyone there. It's a place my brother and I go a lot." Seeing that Thirteen wasn't going to let up anytime soon, Rachel gave in a bit, "I make enough that I've been able to pay off my med school loans."

Thirteen furrowed her brow, "I thought your father was some sort of big shot in business."

"If you're gearing up to ask me if I had a trust fund or something–"

"No, I was just wondering why he didn't pay for your education."

"I didn't want him to," Rachel said simply. "Also, I would have had to tell him where I was going."

"So, did you have a trust fund?" Thirteen asked pertly, trying to change the subject.

"Not exactly. My mom's assets were put into accounts for my brother and I. Combine that with the–shall we say expense account–my father gave me and I had plenty of financial security before I really started working. Still have, I should say."

"Does that mean I get to be a kept woman? Can I quit my job and stay home and bake?"

"Do you bake?" Rachel asked. "Ever?"

"I could learn all kinds of things if I had a benefactor."

"I'm not your benefactor. I'm your girlfriend."

"Where's the fun in that?" Thirteen cracked.

"The fun is right here."

"In traffic?"

"In the flowers, and dinners, and gifts, and hundreds of other attempts at being romantic!" Rachel blurted in exasperation.

Thirteen rolled her eyes and shrugged, "We're still in a fucking traffic jam."

"Yes, we're in a fucking traffic jam, but complaining won't change that. Just shut up, stop being so damn impatient, and let me be sweet to you!" Rachel fussed. She couldn't help but laugh as Thirteen mocked her immaturely while she spoke. "You're an ass!"

"How is that sweet?" Thirteen quipped. As she rolled her eyes at Rachel again the cars ahead of them began to move and traffic regained its normal pace. "Finally! Go, go, go! I want my surprise."

"So impatient," Rachel chuckled.

She drove across the bridge and through the tunnel until it let them out onto the local streets. They passed briefly under the Brooklyn Bridge before Rachel parked by the waterfront. She jumped out of the car and opened Thirteen's door, graciously extending her hand. Thirteen smiled and allowed herself to be helped from the car. She paused to take stock of her surroundings.

The sun was setting quickly and it glinted over the bridge and skyline. A breeze blew over the river and chilled the air. Thirteen shivered and pulled her jacket around her shoulders. She frowned as Rachel chuckled to herself.

"What?"

"I just love that you'll put on a posh little dress like that and still cover up with your everyday leather jacket."

"Don't make fun. I love this jacket."

"I'm serious," Rachel replied. "I think it's charming."

Thirteen blushed and looked away, "Where are we going?"

Rachel pointed to a park across the way and grabbed Thirteen's hand, leading her towards it. Thirteen gazed down the park's brick-lined path. It was filled with huge, shade-bearing trees, a lush, green lawn, and flowers at every turn. As they walked, Thirteen entertained notions of a candlelit picnic filled with fancy French food. Although she wouldn't mind the atmosphere, she silently hoped that Rachel knew better than to offer her such stodgy fare. To her relief, they passed through the park rather than stopping.

The park's greenery sprawled even to the restaurant's door. It crept up and obscured everything except a pair of black French doors. Rachel held one open for Thirteen as they entered into the restaurant. The lobby was decorated like the galley of a ship. Its floors were lined with aged teak, paintings of different vessels hung from the walls, and a large model ship sat inside a display case. Rachel approached the host's podium surely.

"Good evening, Miss Galvin," the host greeted. He took Rachel and Thirteen's coats and quickly checked them. "Welcome back to The River Café."

"Thank you," Rachel replied. "I have a reservation for seven."

"Yes, your table is all set," the host said. He quickly scanned his book. "It seems your brother is dining with us this evening as well."

Rachel smiled, "Great. Could we see him before you seat us?"

The host nodded and led the two of them down a narrow terminal. It was lined with steel railings and portholes on each side.

"Are we about to go on a cruise or something?" Thirteen whispered.

"Not exactly," Rachel answered quietly. "The restaurant itself is built on the water."

Thirteen was excited, but she held fast to her last shred of patience as the terminal opened out onto a vast dining room. Its tables were simply set, and some of them flanked the room's huge windows. The sun was finally dipping into the river, and it bathed everything in a red-orange glow. The view was spectacular. Thirteen's eyes widened as she gazed at the skyline. All the buildings were beginning to light up, sending cascades of stars onto the water. Even the Brooklyn Bridge was lit, and Thirteen's view of it was getting even better as the host led them to Evan's table.

Thirteen looked over to see a man a few years older than herself. He fiddled with his fork, adjusted and readjusted the tie he seemed unaccustomed to wearing. Rachel cleared her throat and his head shot to attention.

"Rach!" he cried. Evan jumped up and wrapped his arms around her. "How are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm great. I'm actually here on a date," Rachel told him. She stepped aside to reveal Thirteen. "Evan, this is Remy Hadley."

"Wow," Evan said, pulling his jaw from the floor.

Thirteen let out a small laugh, "Hi. I've heard a lot about you."

"Same here." Evan pulled Thirteen into a hug, taking her by surprise. "I'm so glad things worked out. Things are working out, right?"

Rachel nodded, "Very well."

"Would you mind if we joined you?" Thirteen asked.

"No, but, uh…" Evan trailed off as he looked past the pair. "There's just one problem."

Thirteen and Rachel turned to see what or who Evan was looking for. Then they saw him. A tall, older man who bore a strong resemblance to Evan. His head and beard were closely shaven, and he wore an expensive-looking power suit. By the way she drew closer, Rachel could tell that Thirteen suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Oh, hell," Rachel murmured.

"Who is that?" Thirteen asked.

"My father."

"It's too late to turn back now," Evan mumbled behind them. As their father got closer, Evan stepped forward to greet him. "Dad. Good to see you."

"You too, son," Mr. Galvin said, shaking Evan's hand. He turned to Rachel and looked her over. "I'm surprised to see you here, Rachel. It's been quite a while."

"Dad," Rachel uttered stiffly. The word sounded strange and foreign as it stumbled off her tongue. Standing tense and guarded, Rachel suddenly remembered Thirteen was standing next to her. "This is, uh–this is Remy Hadley, my girlfriend. Remy, this is my father, Richard Galvin."

Thirteen smiled nervously and extended her hand, "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Galvin."

"Nice to meet you, Remy," Mr. Galvin said. He smiled politely and shook Thirteen's hand. "Shall we all sit? I'm starving."

A waiter swooped in and made his rounds. "Can I start you off with a drink?" he asked, reaching Rachel.

"A gin and tonic, light on the tonic," Rachel said. As the waiter started off Rachel grabbed his arm. "If you could keep them coming all night, I'd really appreciate it," she whispered.

"So, Remy, how long have you and my daughter been together?" Mr. Galvin asked.

"About a week," Thirteen replied.

"One week and she's already calling you her girlfriend? You always were impulsive, Rachel."

"We've know each other for much longer," Rachel replied. The waiter returned quickly, and she began nursing the first of many cocktails.

Dinner passed by very slowly. Occasionally Mr. Galvin would ask Thirteen a question–where she was from or what school she had gone to –but mostly there was uncomfortable silence. Evan and Rachel had taken to locking their gazes on their plates, looking up only if necessary. They picked at their plates tentatively, as if they had lost their appetites. The waiter returned to bring Rachel another drink–her third, Thirteen counted. She flicked her eyes back and forth between them, unsure of what to do. She was seated across from Mr. Galvin and it was getting harder to avoid eye contact. Even having Rachel by her side didn't bring her any comfort.

Mr. Galvin continued directing questions at her, "Where did you meet Rachel?"

"At the hospital. I work in the diagnostics department."

"Diagnostics, that's impressive. You should be smart enough, then, to recognize that my daughter is not a safe bet," Mr. Galvin started. Evan sighed heavily and Rachel bottomed out her drink, but he continued. "She's not one for commitment. She was married. Did she tell you that?"

"She did."

"She had been married less than a month when she ran out on him. I don't think I need to tell you how that turned out."

"I already know, and I think I know your daughter a lot better than you do," Thirteen shot defiantly.

"You're an idiot if you stay with her," Mr. Galvin said.

"Don't talk to her that way," Rachel protested.

Mr. Gavin ignored her. Evan began to interject, but he was quickly cut off. "Don't you start. You're supposed to keep her out of trouble. If she wants to run her own life into the ground that's one thing, but don't let her screw up anyone else."

Rachel slammed her fist onto the table, "Stop it! Take all the digs at me you want, but you will not speak to either of them that way. You do this every time, you know. You barge in and trash everything that I have anything to do with. Most people would consider my life to be pretty successful."

"Most people don't know your past," Mr. Galvin replied.

Rachel shook her head furiously, "It wasn't my fault."

"That's always the way with you, isn't it? I'm the bad guy and you're the innocent victim. It's your fault your mother was on the road that night. If you hadn't been gallivanting around a nightclub, she would still be here. If your mother were here tonight she'd be ashamed of you," Mr. Galvin spat.

Rachel closed her eyes tightly, reeling from the shock of what had been said. Her hand was balled into a fist and shaking violently. Thirteen reached out to her, but Rachel pulled away and turned to her father. "Actually, if Mom were here, you would be nowhere in sight. We would all be sitting here having a pleasant conversation with her and her new husband. She hated you. She had found someone else and she was going to leave you. When she picked me up she even smelled like his cologne. If I'm at fault for anything that night it's for being a stupid teenager. You're the one that got her killed."

"This is ridiculous! Just pass the blame on to me. You can never–"

"The last thing she said was 'I wish your father were here. Then he could be the one crawling out of bed in the middle of the night.'"

"That's enough," Mr. Galvin ordered.

"She was half asleep when she picked me up–"

"I said that's enough!"

"She was tired because you were never around to help. That's why she didn't see that truck–"

"Be quiet, Rachel!"

"That's why she's dead!"

The tension exploded and settled around them. Other patrons were staring. Rachel was seething and Mr. Galvin was irate.

"I'll pay the bill on the way out," was all he said as he pulled himself from the table and left.

Rachel jumped from the table and marched to the bar, leaving Thirteen and Evan frozen in her wake. When Thirteen regained her composure, she went to the bar to find Rachel downing her fourth, then quickly her fifth drink.

"Let's go home," Thirteen said calmly.

Rachel turned to Thirteen. Her eyes were glassy and the look in them shut Thirteen out. "I'm good here."

Thirteen pulled another full drink from Rachel's hand. "We're going," she said sternly.

"And no arguing this time," Evan said, joining them.

* * *

Thirteen drove behind Evan, following him to his apartment. They turned into a quaint old brownstone. Even in the dark, the building's red brick still stood out. Thirteen pulled Rachel from the car and she lolled against her drunkenly as Evan led them inside. The building seemed to have been converted from an old warehouse. As they headed for a freight elevator, Thirteen could see that the first floor held some kind of storefront. Rachel began to lean against her heavily as they climbed to the third floor.

Evan led them to his guest bedroom and quickly disappeared. Thirteen pulled Rachel's arms from her neck and lowered her gently onto the bed. Rachel flopped back with a sigh and covered her face with her hands. Evan returned and handed Thirteen some clothes.

"These should do for tonight. She's got stuff here, but I doubt she could find anything in this condition," Evan said. He studied Rachel with a worried look. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Rachel mumbled. "I'm not even that drunk."

"That's not what I meant."

"I'm fine," Rachel groaned.

Evan gave a heavy sigh and turned to Thirteen, "I'm sorry you had to be part of all this."

"It's okay. I'm just worried about Rachel," Thirteen shrugged. "Why don't you get some sleep? I can put her to bed."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

Evan nodded and left them alone. Thirteen pulled Rachel up and began to redress her in the clothes Evan had brought. Every few moments she would stop and brush a stray tear from Rachel's cheek.

"Why does he hate me?" Rachel whispered.

Thirteen looked up at her, "I think he's just hurt. He lets all that pain and anger get in the way of seeing how amazing you are. If he doesn't want to get to know you that's his loss."

Thirteen pulled Rachel into her arms as she began to tremble. She rubbed circles over her back, trying to get her to sleep. Thirteen lay down and Rachel curled into her like a child. After a long while they both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The sound of knocking woke Thirteen. It had crept into the early hours of the morning and she was groggy. She felt around for Rachel but came up empty. As she began to realize where she must be, Thirteen headed out into the hall. There she found Evan knocking on the bathroom door, trying to coax Rachel out.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't know. I got up to use the bathroom and she had locked herself in. I've tried to talk to her, but she won't answer."

"Do you think she'd hurt herself?" Thirteen whispered.

"I don't know. I don't think so. Nothing in there is exactly clean," Evan answered quietly. He attempted a laugh, but it came out stifled. "I'm going to have to get some tools."

"Just wait a minute. Let me try," Thirteen said. "Rachel? Please let me in. If you don't, Evan's going to take the door down."

Thirteen waited anxiously. She held her breath, straining to hear any sound that indicated Rachel might let them in. After a few moments there was a soft click. Evan turned the knob and the door finally swung open, giving them access to the bathroom. Rachel was sitting in the tub. She had her knees hugged to her chest and her head cradled between her arms. She turned to face the two of them and the light caught her tear-stained face.

"Just Remy," she murmured.

Evan let Thirteen pass and leaned against the doorframe. "I'll stay out here, but I'm not leaving."

"Are you okay?" Thirteen asked. She cautiously climbed into the tub and let her hands rest on Rachel's knees.

"I killed my mom," Rachel sobbed.

"You didn't," Thirteen said. "It was an accident."

"I shouldn't have been there. We shouldn't have been on the road. It's my fault, too."

"It was an accident," Thirteen repeated. "You couldn't have known. You were a kid."

"I was stupid. My mom's dead because I couldn't wait until twenty-one to drink and party," Rachel said. She sniffled as more tears streamed down her cheeks. Thirteen pulled her closer and rubbed her back soothingly.

"It's not your fault. Bad things happen. You can't blame yourself." Sitting against the cold porcelain, Rachel began to shiver. Thirteen stood and pulled her up, "Let's get you back to bed."

Thirteen gently lead her back to the bedroom. She eased Rachel to the bed and pulled the covers around her. Still sobbing, Rachel huddled closely against Thirteen. Thirteen held her tightly and whispered comforting words until Rachel was calm enough to sleep.

* * *

Thirteen gasped and her eyes snapped open. Quickly using her hand to shield against the bright morning light, she tried to determine what had startled her. Uninterrupted sleep seemed to be too much to ask for this weekend. But that sound. It was too loud to be a blender or a grinder. In fact, it didn't sound like any appliances that came to mind. It was more like a power tool of some sort.

Slowly, Thirteen untangled herself from Rachel's balled form and crept out of bed. She wandered around Evan's apartment for a while, getting her bearings. There wasn't much–the two bedrooms, the bathroom, a small sitting area, kitchen, and elevator. The offending noise continued, but there were no signs of its source. In the kitchen there was a fresh pot of still-hot coffee. Thirteen poured herself a large mug and made her way to the elevator.

Inside, she found buttons for three floors and a basement. She tried for the second floor and the old elevator lurched into descent. The closer she got to the second floor, the louder the noise became until she could see Evan from the elevator. He stood amidst a shower of sparks. Moving back and forth, he passed his noisy tool over a sizeable piece of metal.

Evan was outfitted with gloves, goggles, a facemask, and hearing protectors. Stepping from the elevator cautiously, Thirteen looked for a way to get his attention. It only took her a moment to find the solution. On the wall opposite the elevator, a large yellow arrow had been painted facing a switch. Inside, the arrow read, "If you must have my attention." Thirteen flipped the switch and a red light began to flash overhead. After a few moments Evan turned off his tool and removed his safety gear.

"Is everything okay?" he asked with a tinge of worry in his voice.

"Everything's fine. I just had to find out what that noise was."

Evan laughed, "Sorry. I'm not used to working with other people around. Although, honestly, I thought you'd sleep through it. You sleep like the dead–both of you."

"It was a long night. What is that thing anyway?" Thirteen asked gesturing to the tool Evan had set aside.

"It's a wheel grinder. I was smoothing out the edges of the metal."

Thirteen looked at the metal again. The piece was as tall as she was and very substantial. As she looked around she saw other pieces. Some were metal, some were wood, and some looked like the beginnings of furniture. "What is all of this?"

"I'm a sculptor," Evan said proudly. "Mostly large industrial pieces. I'm also a carpenter and furniture maker. That's what pays the bills. I have a store downstairs."

"Impressive," Thirteen nodded. "Have you been down here all night?"

Evan shrugged, "Rachel runs, I sculpt. I couldn't get back to sleep. By the way, you, my friend, are dipping into my second pot of coffee."

Thirteen looked sheepishly at the mug between her hands. "Sorry," she mumbled. She took a long pull from it and offered Evan the mug.

Evan laughed and waved her off, "Keep it. You deserve it."

"What did I do?"

"You got to Rachel. And I don't mean the whole ordeal of getting together. I'm talking about last night. She's never let anyone in like that."

"Like what?"

"She's never let anyone that close while she's down," Evan said. "No one has ever made it past the door, so to speak."

"What your father said last night, is that what drove Rachel away before?"

"When we met her husband? Yeah, that was pretty much exactly what he said then. She's never really stopped blaming herself and it doesn't help that he adds to that."

Thirteen shook her head in frustration, "Why would he do that? Why would he put that burden on her?"

"It easier. If he believes it's Rachel's fault, he doesn't have to face all the mistakes he's made. He doesn't have to acknowledge that he wasn't there for his children or that his wife was with another man. As long as it's Rachel's fault, it's not his."

"But she shouldn't have to put up with that," Thirteen said.

"No, but there's nothing to be done about it. Our father is who he is. We generally keep our distance from him. Rachel's strong, though. She'll be fine."

Evan smiled warmly at Thirteen. It was the same kindhearted grin she always received from Rachel and she returned the gesture.

A sudden burst of creaks and groans from the elevator made Evan snap to attention. Thirteen turned as Rachel pulled up the door and stepped from the car. She was swaddled in a soft-looking old hoodie and jeans. She pulled her hair back into a messy bun as she strode over to them.

"How are you feeling?" Thirteen asked.

"Okay," Rachel said softly, coming to Thirteen's side. "A little dehydrated, a little drained, but okay."

Thirteen pulled Rachel into a tight hug and breathed her in; she was still warm from the shower. As they parted slightly, Thirteen pushed a few stray curls from Rachel's face and kissed her. "Do you want anything? Breakfast? Coffee?"

"I think the better question is does Evan have anything?" Rachel said turning to her brother. "He still lives a little like a frat boy."

"My kitchen is fully stocked, thank you," Evan replied. "Be nice or you'll go hungry."

"Both of you be nice or I won't make anymore coffee," Thirteen cut in.

The siblings clammed up, smiling slightly at each other. Rachel wrapped her arms around Evan, giving him a quick hug before heading upstairs with Thirteen.

When they reached the kitchen Thirteen set to work rummaging through the cupboards to find what she needed. Rachel tried to help, but Thirteen swatted her hands and shooed her away to the island in the center of the kitchen. "Sit," she said.

"I'm sorry about last night," Rachel called. "I definitely didn't mean for our first date to turn into a family drama session."

Thirteen shrugged, "Simplicity has never really been our thing."

"Still, I'm sorry everything was ruined."

"You don't have to keep apologizing. I'm much more concerned about you. Are you sure you're okay?"

Rachel nodded, "It's strange, but I feel sort of free. I don't have to walk on eggshells anymore. Everything is out in the open."

"You were huddled in a bathtub and crying for most of the night. You find that freeing?" Thirteen asked, narrowing her eyes.

"My father has blamed me for that accident for years, and I let him. All the digs, and cold shoulders seemed like penance, they seemed right. I never spoke up about what happened that night, or how I felt about my father's part in it. Until last night. Last night I finally got everything off my chest. I don't think I'll ever be able to completely put it all behind me, but I feel like I can move on."

Thirteen reached over and laced her fingers between Rachel's, "I'm glad you're okay. You had me worried."

"I'll be fine," Rachel assured her.

"So, what can I make you?"

"Tea and dry toast."

"Seriously? Evan's got eggs, bacon, pancake mix."

Rachel chewed on her lip as she chose her words carefully, "It's just that my stomach is a little sensitive when I'm hung-over and it occurs to me that I've never eaten your cooking."

Thirteen pushed her lip into a mock-pout and frowned, "I can't believe you don't trust my cooking skills. Just for that, you're getting eggs with that toast."

"I suppose I could handle that." Rachel laughed at Thirteen's stubbornness before deciding to push her buttons, "Besides, who can't cook eggs?"

Thirteen promptly snapped a kitchen towel at Rachel before busying herself with breakfast.

As the smell of food wafted through the building, Thirteen soon found Evan sneaking into the kitchen in search of a meal. She served three plates full of eggs and toast and sat down. The trio ate hungrily through an easy silence.

"What are you two doing for Thanksgiving?" Evan mumbled through his toast.

"Sorry," Thirteen replied. "I didn't understand that with the crumbs flying from your mouth."

Rachel laughed under her breath, "We don't have any plans just yet. At least not together."

"I don't have any plans at all," Thirteen said. "I'll probably be working."

"Why don't I come down?" Evan offered. "The delinquent doc and I will cook." Evan watched as Thirteen simply nodded and Rachel shrugged unenthusiastically. "Could you muster up just a little excitement? We're talking about the only holiday where you get to gorge yourself."

"Can you blame us?" Rachel asked. "Our first date was mess. Sorry we're not all fired up for our first holiday."

"At least you know it can't get worse," Evan chimed.

Thirteen smirked a bit at his remark. "Thanksgiving together actually sounds really nice. It sounds normal. Maybe we can actually have a simple, relaxing holiday."

"Yeah," Rachel mumbled. "That's not a jinx at all."


	16. Chapter 16

Hello! I hope my American readers have recovered from their Thanksgiving comas. I need everybody who reads this to send out some good vibes for me, so that 1) I can get into the school I applied to, and 2) I can get in some solid writing time in December. Enjoy, and thanks for the great reviews on the last chapter.

* * *

The heavy veil of sleep slowly slipped from Thirteen's eyes. It was early and the fall sun had barely risen. As she stretched her waking body, Thirteen couldn't help but notice the absence of warmth between the sheets. Rachel had undoubtedly slipped out for an early run. Thirteen pulled herself from the bed eagerly. Today she rejoined House's team.

She showered and dressed at a leisurely pace, hearing the door open as she finished and pulled on her shoes. Rachel breezed in smelling of morning dew and fresh fallen leaves.

"Good morning," she greeted, giving Thirteen a sweaty, salty kiss.

"Morning."

"Are you ready for your first day back?"

"Yeah. I'm a little excited," Thirteen replied as she trailed Rachel to the shower. "I'm also a little appalled."

"At what?"

"I can't believe you could just leave me in bed and go running."

Rachel rolled her eyes and stepped into the shower, "You were asleep."

"I was naked."

"As far as I can tell, you almost always sleep naked. If I let myself get precious over your nudity, I'll never get anything done."

Thirteen headed off with a laugh. She ventured to the kitchen and filled the counter with ingredients for breakfast. She was still earning Rachel's culinary trust and had begun to call on a few recipes she had truly mastered. She beat eggs, quickly chopped vegetables, and ended up with a perfectly fluffy omelette. She wolfed it down hungrily and resumed her place at the stove. No sooner had she plated the second omelette than Rachel emerged from the bedroom. Rachel wrapped her arms around Thirteen and kissed her.

"Good luck today. I love you," she said. As she pulled away, Rachel left a small, bow-wrapped box on the counter.

"What's this?" Thirteen asked smiling.

"One last little present."

Thirteen opened the box to find a shiny silver key. "To your heart, I presume?" she asked drolly.

Rachel chuckled, "To my office. In case you need a quiet place to have lunch or an escape from House's insanity.

"Thanks," Thirteen smiled and grabbed hold of Rachel's arm. "Come here," she said, leading her to the table.

"You made me breakfast?" Rachel asked as Thirteen slid the plate to her.

"I wanted to repay you for all you've done for me."

"Not that you have to repay me, but how is one omelette equal to a week of nonstop cooking and gifts?"

Thirteen smiled, "Trust me. There are a handful of things I do mind-blowingly well. Making omelettes is the only one I do with clothes on. I've got to go." She placed a quick kiss on Rachel's lips before heading for the door.

After a few moments, Rachel yelled after her with a mouthful, "Best omelette ever!"

* * *

The drive to the hospital passed more quickly than Thirteen remembered. She strode through the lobby, stopped quickly in the cafeteria for coffee, then headed for the diagnostics department. In the office she found Taub huddled behind a newspaper.

"Hey," she greeted.

"You're here," Taub said, lowering the paper. "I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind about coming back."

"Just because it's our first day back doesn't mean House will show up before ten. Besides, we're still missing a third."

"Third and fourth," Taub replied. "Chase joined the team."

"Really? Cameron can't be happy about that."

"Cameron went back to Chicago." Taub smirked as Thirteen dropped her jaw in astonishment, "It pays to be early."

"What happened?" Thirteen asked eagerly.

Before Taub could explain, Chase trudged into the office. He poured himself a cup of coffee and silently sat down across from Thirteen. Taub quickly took cover behind his newspaper and Chase busied himself with a book. Thirteen tried to ignore the awkwardness of the moment, but it suddenly magnified as Foreman entered the office. He settled himself at the far end of the table, putting as much distance as possible between himself and Thirteen. Before she could start anxiously twiddling her thumbs, House walked in and Thirteen was surprised to find herself thankful for his abrupt entrance.

"Ready to save some lives?" House asked, his eyebrow raised dramatically. He hurled a file at them and continued his differential. "Thirty-two-year-old courier. Ataxia, anemia, mild cough. CT was clear, tox screen negative."

"What are you so excited about?" Chase asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" House shrugged. "Got all my starters back, plus a couple of first-class free agents. I feel like Mike Tomlin." He glanced to Foreman briefly, "Probably not as much as you do, but you get the idea."

"Ataxia and anemia could be viral," Thirteen suggested. "Maybe West Nile?"

"No fever, lymph glands were normal. Anybody seen Wilson?"

"Hyperbilirubinemia?" Taub posed.

"Yeah, like that's a real thing," House scoffed as he limped to his office.

"Meningitis," Chase offered.

"Anemia's a stretch," House called. In the distance Thirteen heard House mumbling a page request.

"What about sickle-cell?" Taub suggested as he handed Thirteen the case file.

"The guy's white," Foreman said, shooting the idea down.

"White's can get it," Taub insisted.

"Come on," House said, returning to the team office. "We get the tennis elbow and all the money. Let them have sickle-cell."

"TTP's a better fit," Foreman said.

"He's right," Thirteen replied as she reviewed the file. The room fell quiet and she became all too aware that the rest of the team was staring at her. "What, you thought I wouldn't agree with him? Ever?"

"Well, you didn't agree with him," House said. "That's why he dumped you. Oh, sorry. It was mutual."

"We're cool, okay?" Foreman protested. "Nobody's angry, nobody's hurt."

Foreman's presumptuousness annoyed Thirteen to no end. There were no longer any hurt feelings, but they definitely were not cool. Thirteen gritted her teeth and held her tongue as House continued his pestering.

"Sounds passionate," he quipped.

Chase cleared his throat and tried to steer the conversation back on track, "TTP makes sense to me."

"Not to me," Taub said. "What if he had a history of–"

"One big, happy family," House cut in. "TTP it is. Confirm with blood smear and ADAMTS13 antibodies."

The team filed from the office. As soon as they were out the door, Chase veered off towards the lounge and Foreman quickly followed. Thirteen and Taub continued on to the patient's room to collect test samples.

When they were finished and secure in the privacy of the pathology lab, Thirteen finally ventured a question. "So, what happened with Chase and Cameron."

"From what I could get out of Foreman, there was a not-so-accidental accident with an African dictator. Foreman and House helped Chase cover it up, but he came clean to Cameron. When he did, she left him."

"Wow. Never boring," Thirteen mumbled. "So, what was it like going back to plastic surgery?"

"It was refreshing. I was home every night at a reasonable hour, there was no maniac interfering in my personal life." Taub let out a loud sigh, "It was boring."

Thirteen laughed, "I guess the grass really is greener."

"How about you?"

"I only recently started looking at job offers. I spent a month in Thailand, and the rest of the time I spent with friends."

"Lucky you. Didn't you think there was something weird about that guy?" Taub said, referring to their patient.

"Not really. In fact, he seemed pretty normal."

"That's my point. Guys with IQs off the chart are usually completely abnormal," Taub insisted.

Thirteen looked at Taub skeptically, "Speaking of House, why'd you come back? You must've taken a major pay cut."

"Life's too short to worry about money."

"Your wife feel the same way?"

"She's happy to cut back on some things. Like sex. Why'd you come back?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Thirteen shrugged. "Like Foreman said, nobody's angry, nobody's hurt. Schistocytes."

"That means TTP."

"Which is what we thought it would be, remember? This is a good thing."

"This is an easy thing and House doesn't take cases that are easy, which means it's not TTP and he wants to see how long it takes us to catch up to him."

With that Thirteen and Taub rushed off to find House. After a few minutes they found him rushing through the halls, searching room to room for someone or something.

As they tried to keep up Taub called after House, "Schistocytes suggest TTP."

"Good," House said distractedly. "Now what?"

"Normally we'd try plasmapheresis, but the patient has an albumin colloid allergy."

"So?" House urged.

"So, that means we have to give him a splenectomy," Taub said.

"Yes, it does," House replied.

House suddenly ducked into the men's room, leaving Taub and, especially, Thirteen hesitating outside the door. As Taub slipped inside, Thirteen glanced down the hall before heading in as well.

Continuing his search, House checked under the stalls. "Wilson?" he called.

"No," a confused voice responded.

"Do you know where he is?"

"Not in here," the voice answered.

Thirteen shot Taub a dubious look as House continued to search the bathroom. "You're sure you want us to take out his spleen?" she asked.

"Is that what a splenectomy is? I thought it was an ice cream treat. Yuck."

"So, you do really think he has TTP?" Taub asked. "You're not just testing us?"

"Yeah," House scoffed. "Like I have time for games."

"So, why did you really take this case?" Taub ventured.

"Isn't it obvious?" House asked. "I'm fishing for a dinner invite."

Thirteen shared a confused look with Taub before a flush sent her rushing from the bathroom.

"A dinner invite?" Taub questioned as they headed back to the office. "Is he serious?"

"Of course he is. He's trying to get on Cuddy's good side, so he's taking whatever she gives him. The real question is why now?"

"And the answer would be?"

"Who cares? We can have Chase remove his spleen, spend a few hours in the clinic, then head home to get an early jump on the holiday."

While Taub went to brief Chase, Thirteen prepped the patient for surgery. After she passed him off to the surgical staff, she went to the clinic to spend the rest of the afternoon wiping noses.

The clinic's usual level of anxiety was magnified by the stress of the impending holiday. Everyone seemed to have put off their most pressing medical concerns until their families were descending upon them. Thirteen spent hours running pregnancy tests and STD panels, while another crop of patients found more bizarre ways to fill her time. When she grew tired of swabbing crotches, Thirteen gathered her things and headed home.

* * *

As she finally arrived home and approached her door, Thirteen found Rachel struggling to open the door with her arms full of grocery bags.

"Need a hand?" Thirteen asked. She relieved Rachel of a few bags and unlocked the door.

"You're home awfully early," Rachel said. She followed Thirteen to the kitchen where they began to put away the groceries. "Easy day?"

"Yeah. Tested the patient for TTP, removed his spleen, and spent some time in the clinic."

"Great. You'll actually have time to spend with me on Thursday."

"That's the plan. Although, judging from all this food, we should plan to spend most of it swollen and bloated on the couch."

"Evan is a bit of an ambitious cook. This is his grocery list in all its glory." They quickly finished putting the food away and Rachel sighed in accomplishment.

"I hate that I'll have to work part of the day. I love watching you cook for me," Thirteen said with a coy smile.

Rachel's mouth pulled into a lopsided smirk as she retrieved Thirteen's key from where she'd set it down. "You'll be here to enjoy the fruits of my labor. That's what counts. Oh," Rachel groaned wistfully, looking at the key in her hand. "I'm going to have to give this up in a few days."

"Why?"

"You do realize I have to go home soon? The deal was I'd stay until my suspension was up."

"Nope. You're moving in," Thirteen replied. "You're going to stay here forever."

Rachel's smile dropped and she stepped away from Thirteen a little. "Remy, I'm not –"

"I was kidding, Rachel. I know it's way too soon for us to be living together."

Rachel nodded and sighed in relief, "I'm glad you feel that way. But at the same time, I don't want you to think I'm not open to things like that. If things keep going the way they have been, then someday I will be ready to live with you. For now, though, a lot has happened with us. I'm in love with you, you've become a big part of my life very quickly, and it's all very intense. We're about to spend a major holiday together for fuck's sake."

Thirteen smirked, "You're freaking out about Thanksgiving aren't you?"

"No."

"Yes."

"I'm not," Rachel insisted. She rolled her eyes as Thirteen continued nodding her head. "A little. Okay, a lot. I am completely freaking out over a stupid little holiday. I feel so fucking neurotic." Rachel stopped babbling as a broad smile crossed Thirteen's face. She went to Rachel and pulled her into a hug. "Not to be ungrateful, but why are you hugging me?"

"You told me," Thirteen said simply. "You were scared about something in our relationship and instead of running or pushing me away, you told me."

"Personal growth is a turn on. Got it," Rachel replied.

"Now if only you could stop ruining special moments with sarcasm," Thirteen laughed. "Hold on to the key. I want you visiting often."

Rachel smiled brightly and her cheeks began to burn. As if to banish the sensation with a contrary feeling, she wriggled away from Thirteen and grumbled, "I saw your shrink today."

"And?" Thirteen asked.

"She had me on the couch for two hours."

"Oh no, you're special," Thirteen joked. "When are the white coats coming to take you in?"

"Funny," Rachel said drolly.

"What'd you talk about?"

"The incident at work, the issues with my father. You."

"Me? What did you say about me?"

"Not much," Rachel said shrugging. "Just that I had finally found someone as equally insane and equally neurotic as myself."

"Funny," Thirteen quipped. "What did she say?"

"That I am a high-stress individual with a high-stress life and a seriously fucked up past, but that I'm well-equipped to handle it all."

Thirteen smiled and wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck. "Glad to hear it," she said with a kiss. "We can work together again."

Rachel nodded, "After Thanksgiving it's you and me against the world."

* * *

The next day Thirteen was called back to the hospital early. Their patient had suffered a stroke and House gathered the team to discuss new theories. As self-involved as it made her feel, Thirteen couldn't help but worry about her holiday plans. This case was shaping up to be a typical, time consuming mystery after all.

Ideas were being tossed back and forth while House was preoccupied with the phone, dialing number after number and barely focusing on the team. Frustrated by his lack of attention, Thirteen took a deep breath a focused herself on the differential.

"CNS vasculitis. Explains ataxia and anemia, maybe the stroke," Taub said.

"CT would have picked up something," Foreman countered.

"Could be DIC," Thirteen suggested. She rolled her eyes as House ignored her for what sounded like another wrong number. "You going to ask?" she said to Taub.

"I'm sure he's got a perfectly logical explanation," he replied.

"It can't be DIC. No hemorrhaging," House said. "And I'm calling all twelve Julia Cuddy's within a hundred mile radius."

"See," Taub said. "Completely reasonable. Acquired pancytopenia?"

"WBC's normal," Chase said.

"Hey Julia! You're Lisa's sister right?" House greeted the next Cuddy on the line. "You sure? Because you are number twelve."

"Maybe she got married and changed her name," Thirteen suggested in an effort to move things along.

"Otis Campbell," Foreman muttered.

"She probably kept her first name," House cracked.

"The mnemonic for toxins," he clarified. "O for organophosphates, T for tricyclics, I for insulin–"

"Or as I remember it, Moist Place," House interjected. "That's place spelled with two Ls and a silent B."

"Except the tox screen was negative," Thirteen added.

"Standard tox screen," Chase pointed out. "Unstandard toxins don't show up on it."

"Well, you two do an unstandard tox screen," House said, pointing to Thirteen and Foreman, then Taub and Chase. "You two search his home. Otis Campbell's got to be hiding somewhere."

Thirteen rose silently and headed for the lab as Foreman followed. She quickly gathered the samples they needed while Foreman set up the necessary instruments. As they began running their tests, she was very careful to stay focused only on the task before her. Unfortunately, Foreman had no such agenda.

"How've you been?" he asked.

"Good," she said shortly.

"I was a little surprised when House told me you took the job. I thought for sure you'd tell him to go to hell."

"Mmm," Thirteen mumbled.

"Did you enjoy the rest of your time off?"

Thirteen nodded, "Hung with friends."

Foreman paused before he ventured his next question, "Are you going to give me anything more than a three word answer today?"

"Probably not," Thirteen said, shaking her head.

"I'm just trying to have a conversation with you. Be friendly."

"But that's just it. I don't particularly want to talk to you. We're not friends, Foreman. We never were. You can't just act like I took a long vacation. You fired me. House giving me my job back doesn't change that," Thirteen blurted in a huff. "You were so concerned with our history getting in the way of work, but now you're the one making things personal."

"I'm sorry," Foreman said quietly.

"Let's just finish the tests. In silence." Thirteen shook her head in frustration, "I knew you'd be like this. You always have to control everything. To make it fit into this little box so you can manage it."

"What happened to working quietly and not letting things get personal?"

"I was lying," Thirteen snapped, throwing her arms up.

"Just like when we were dating. You never opened up to me, never let things get personal."

"And you're so easy to talk to. You could barely let me into your apartment, much less your life."

"Give me a break, you never wanted to be with me," Foreman sneered. "You just wanted someone to make you feel better about your life. As soon as you had Rachel to confide in, you weren't interested in me."

"Don't drag her into this. You can't even admit that the failure of our relationship had anything to do with you. It must have been someone else's fault."

"You could have at least found someone less screwed up to spend time with," Foreman muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Cuddy suspended her. She had some kind of depressive episode and messed up a patient's meds."

"You are such an arrogant bastard. You have no idea what you're talking about," Thirteen growled. "Why don't you just check in with Chase and Taub. I would much rather finish this myself."

Foreman sighed and shrugged his shoulders, "Fine."

Thirteen breathed a sigh of relief as Foreman huffed through the door. She spent the rest of the evening in the lab alone, running tests for every unusual toxin she could think of.

When she arrived home that night Thirteen slammed the door harshly behind her and let out a loud, frustrated groan. Rachel quickly rushed to see what was the matter.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Foreman," Thirteen scoffed. "He's such an asshole."

"You're just finding that out?"

"What was I doing with him?"

"Biding time until you met me?" Rachel asked smiling slyly. She nuzzled her forehead against Thirteen's and gave her a peck on the cheek. "What happened?"

"He was being so arrogant. He thinks that because I got my job back everything is okay between us."

"You're still angry with him? I thought you let that go."

Thirteen shook her head, "It'll be a while before I'm not angry with him anymore."

"So, you're going to let him make you miserable?" Rachel asked.

"And what do you suggest?"

"I suggest you leave it on the field."

"Really? A sports metaphor?" Thirteen scoffed.

"Shut up, please. Your job is stressful enough, there's no reason for you to bring all that shit home."

Thirteen shrugged slightly, "I'll be glad when your suspension is over and I can come rant to you like a crazy person."

"Don't let them make you a crazy person," Rachel said with a kiss. "Just do what you have to do and get out of there. Tomorrow we'll have a nice dinner with Evan, and after that I'll be back to work."

Thirteen smiled and hugged Rachel, "Thank you for just listening to me and talking this out. I'm really glad you're not a micromanaging control freak."

"Anything for you," Rachel said with a smirk.

* * *

The next morning found Thirteen in the lab again. She ran tests on her own for hours before anyone came to check on her. It was early in the afternoon when Foreman slowly slinked into the lab. He seemed to be feeling a bit cautious after his last encounter with Thirteen's temper.

"How's it looking?" he asked.

"So far everything's clean," Thirteen said.

"Can I help?"

"I'm almost done. We can give House the results in a few minutes."

Before he could push his luck, Foreman turned and went back to the office. A few minutes later, the computer beeped and began printing the test results. As Thirteen had feared, they were clear, giving the team no leads on what was ailing the patient. No sooner had Thirteen reviewed the results than her pager beeped. She rushed back to the office where the team stood waiting.

"The tox screen was negative for everything. He's clean," she told them.

"It'd be nice if our boss could join us so we can finish this diagnosis," Taub said. "Where the hell is House?"

"Speak of him and he shall appear," House boomed as he entered the room. House went to his desk and pulled out a pair of ties before looking himself over in the mirror. "What have you got for me?"

"The unstandard tox screen was as clean as the standard one," Foreman reported.

"But we found vodka stashed at his place," Taub told him.

The news didn't seem to register with House as he continued to model ties for himself. The afternoon was wearing on and Thirteen started to become anxious over how slowly things were going. She began to twiddle her thumbs nervously while she waited on House. "What with the ties?" she finally asked.

"Makes me look adorably non-threatening. Party or party hearty?" House asked, holding up the ties, the latter of which was covered in turkeys. The team simply rolled their eyes at him.

"Liver failure would explain all the symptoms," Chase said. House continued gesturing towards his ties, pressing for an answer. "Party," Chase replied, giving in.

"So, the guy's a brainiac and his secret drug of choice is booze? That's kind of pedestrian, don't you think?"

"Talk to him," Taub said. "He's a pedestrian guy."

"With pedestrian alcoholism," Foreman added. "The liver biopsy can wait until after Thanksgiving."

"Yes," House said. "Assuming the biopsy's going to tell us exactly what we expect it to tell us, it can wait until after New Year's. On the other hand, Taub and Thirteen can do the liver biopsy today."

Thirteen put her hands on her hips, ready to protest, but she had no words for how annoyed she was.

"Why us?" Taub asked in her place.

"Juniority," House answered. "Welcome back."

"What do you want us to do?" Chase asked.

"Same as me. Have a happy Thanksgiving."

House breezed happily from the room with a smirk on his face. Thirteen glared at Chase for a moment before he graced her with an annoying smile of his own. After a while she half-heartedly returned the gesture. Chase and Foreman quickly left as Thirteen and Taub headed for the patient's room.

Together, Taub and Thirteen prepared the patient for the biopsy. Thirteen rolled her eyes and tried to hide her annoyance as the patient argued with his wife. They hastily gathered a piece of his liver and left the couple to their disagreement.

In the lab, Thirteen was all business. She had no intention of missing out on her holiday with Rachel. She quickly prepared slides from the samples she and Taub had collected and began examining them. After some time, Thirteen became very aware of Taub watching her closely as he helped with the tests.

"Why do you keep staring at me?"

"Just observing," Taub said. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Thirteen said. "Why?"

"You just seem off. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Taub. Can we do this so we can get out of here?"

"Are you on drugs again?" Taub asked.

"Excuse me?" Thirteen snapped shooting Taub an indignant look.

"You're awfully calm. You don't seem upset about any of this."

"I'm trying to get these tests done so I can get out of here and enjoy my Thanksgiving."

Taub shook his head and kept pushing, "It's more than that. You've put up with House and Foreman all week. No sarcasm, no snide comebacks. You're either stoned or you're having really good sex. So which is it?"

"It's not drugs," Thirteen admitted.

Taub watched as Thirteen rolled her eyes and tried to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Really?"

Thirteen shook her head and scoffed in amusement, "I can't believe you think I've been on drugs all week. I have never come to work on drugs."

"It's within your wheelhouse," Taub said shrugging. "So, would your new playmate happen to be a certain doe-eyed department head?"

"Wilson's not my type," Thirteen said. She laughed to herself as Taub shot her a look. "Yes, Rachel and I are together. Satisfied?"

Taub smiled, "How long's that been going on?"

"Not long," Thirteen mumbled. "We're just getting started. This is going to take a while. I'm going to grab us some lunch." Thirteen rushed from the lab before Taub could say anything. She hurried to the cafeteria, dialing Rachel's number on the way.

"Hello?" Rachel answered on the other end.

"Hey, it's me. How's everything?"

"Great. Evan's here, the turkey's almost done, we're just waiting for you."

"About that," Thirteen said.

"You're going to be late?"

"Yeah, I'm going to be late."

"Okay," Rachel sighed. "We'll keep dinner warm for you. Hurry home, alright?"

"I will." Thirteen quickly grabbed two sandwiches and returned to the lab. "Tuna salad," she announced to Taub. "Closest thing they had to turkey."

"Thanks, but I'm hoping I can still get out here and catch the tail end of dinner with my wife," Taub said. He was intently reviewing the results on the monitor.

"Anything?"

"No cirrhosis, no scarring, no infection."

"Blood panel?"

"Elevated albumin, 7.2"

"That's it?" Thirteen asked through a mouthful of her sandwich.

"Everything else is fine," Taub said.

"So, it was a waste of time."

"Unless it's not his liver that's elevating his albumin, it's his kidneys."

"Renal failure," Thirteen said thoughtfully. "Explains the anemia. If he developed hyperkalemia that would explain the ataxia. But the stroke–"

"Ischemic encephalopathy."

"Nice," Thirteen chimed. "Except now we have to stay and test his kidneys."

Thirteen handed Taub his sandwich and he looked at it with disgust. "I'm going to call my wife, let her know I won't be home for dinner."

"Would you mind standing on the other side of the room?" Thirteen asked. Taub quickly shot her a confused look. "I'd rather not be near you when she opens fire over the phone."

"And Rachel won't be upset when you call her?"

"She will be, but we haven't been dating long enough to have the kind of negative history you two have."

* * *

Back at Thirteen's apartment, Rachel was busy with the Thanksgiving preparations. She was elbow-bow deep in the oven when Evan called her.

"Rach, your phone is ringing."

"Can you get it?" Rachel asked. She staggered a bit as she took the turkey from the oven.

"It's Remy," Evan said handing her the phone.

"You talk to her," Rachel said, lowering her voice. "I need to shower, I reek."

"She's on the phone. She can't smell you." Evan shoved the phone into Rachel's hands and quickly tucked his own behind his back.

"Hey, Rem," Rachel finally said. "What's up?"

"I'm going to miss dinner," Thirteen said sadly.

"No. What happened? I thought you were just running late?"

"I know. I'm sorry. Taub and I have to stay and run some more tests. I'm so sorry, I know this sucks."

"Yeah, it does. But I understand."

"Save me some food?" Thirteen asked.

"Sure," Rachel laughed. "I'll see you in the morning."

"She's not coming?" Evan asked.

"Nope. She has to run tests for House," Rachel sighed. "Let's eat."

* * *

In the morning, Rachel woke early and started to prepare herself for work. When she sauntered into the living room she found Evan stretched across the couch. She tapped him lightly on the shoulders to bring him around. "Wake up, Evan." She kept pushing as he roused slowly and began to yawn. "Stop drooling in my girlfriend's couch."

"It's a one bedroom loft," Evan yawned. "Where else am I supposed to drool?"

"Why don't you hop in the shower while I make the frittata."

A wide smile crossed Evan's face, "The Thanksgiving leftover frittata?"

"Is there any other?" Rachel asked.

She smiled to herself as her brother hurried off to wash up. She began chopping up leftovers and assembling them in a deep skillet before covering the mixture in eggs. She slid it into the oven and, with a heavy pout, started making coffee. Thirteen hadn't made it home at all last night. They were having no luck at spending time together on special occasions.

Before long, Evan returned from the shower and joined Rachel for breakfast. They both ate quickly, in a hurry to begin their busy days. Once they had eaten, Rachel drove Evan to the train station. When they arrived, Evan gave Rachel a hurried hug and rushed from the car. "Give Remy a hug for me. Tell her I said hello."

Rachel nodded, "Have a safe trip." She waited a moment, watching Evan board the train, before she pulled off.

* * *

When she reached the hospital, Rachel stopped at Cuddy's office. She waited patiently in the clinic, hiding amongst the activity until Cuddy left. When the coast was clear, she simply slipped the letter from Thirteen's psychiatrist under her door and left.

Rachel made her way to her own office. As she reached the door, she heard the shrill beeping of a pager coming from inside. She unlocked the door only to find Thirteen sprawled across her desk asleep.

Rachel pulled the pager from Thirteen's pocket and turned it off. She paused for a moment, hating to wake her, then gently nudged Thirteen. "Remy," she called softly. "Rem? Wake up, babe." It only took a few more shakes for Thirteen to bolt straight up in the chair. She looked around, confused and startled in her half-woken stupor. Rachel couldn't help but find her adorable. "Usually people don't fall comatose until after they've had Thanksgiving dinner."

"You woke me up to tease me?" Thirteen asked, glaring at Rachel.

"Sorry, your pager was going off. Taub must be looking for you."

"Fuck," Thirteen groaned. "I need go."

Thirteen jumped from the desk only for Rachel to push her back down. "No you don't. Just relax a minute. Did you get any real sleep at all?"

"A few hours," Thirteen said before taking a deep yawn and stretching her stiff body.

"Here," Rachel said, unpacking a tote she had prepared for Thirteen . She laid out a mug of coffee and a dish that contained a slice of the infamous frittata. "Can't have you running on no sleep and hospital food."

"What is this?"

"You are about to experience a Galvin tradition. I give you the Day After Thanksgiving Frittata."

Thirteen narrowed her eyes at Rachel, "Are you moving in on my omelette territory?"

"No, no, this is a frittata," Rachel said cheekily. "Seriously, Evan and I do this every year. Whatever leftovers look good in the morning get thrown in with the eggs."

Thirteen tore into her breakfast hungrily. "This is incredible," she said through a mouthful.

Rachel smiled and sat down across from her desk. She watched as Thirteen wolfed down her food as if it might be her last meal. She didn't speak again until she had drained the coffee Rachel brought her.

"How was dinner?" Thirteen asked.

"Good, but it was pretty boring without you. Evan sends his love."

Thirteen let out a short laugh, "I jinxed us."

"Yeah, you did. We don't seem to be able to spend time together in any sort of formal, planned fashion."

"I guess we could do worse than furtive dates in your office," Thirteen shrugged. "But I promise I'll make it up to you in a very too-spontaneous-to-go-wrong kind of way."

Rachel laughed at Thirteen's choice of words, "Sounds great."

Thirteen's pager began to go off again, making the couple groan in unison. They pulled themselves to their feet and wrapped their arms around each other. "Thanks for breakfast," Thirteen said.

"You're welcome.

Thirteen pulled back a bit and gazed into Rachel's eyes, "I love you."

Rachel smiled at her sweetly for a moment. "It's about time," she replied.

"Excuse me?"

"I've been waiting for you to say that for over a week."

"I'm sorry my emotional revelation inconvenienced you." Thirteen rolled her eyes to the ceiling and dropped out of their hug.

"Falling in love is something you recognize from a vantage point. Generally, people only say they're falling in love when they're holding back. Falling in love and being in love are basically the same."

"You're really sucking the romance out of this moment."

Rachel smiled sheepishly, "I love you, too."

"Tonight is your last night at my place, right?"

"Yes."

Thirteen nodded, "Maybe I'll stop by and spend some time with you."

"Maybe?"

"We seem to have our best moments when there are no expectations."

"In that case, I'm going to plan on not seeing you at all tonight. We'll see what happens."

"Sounds good," Thirteen said. She kissed Rachel briefly and went to rejoin the team.

* * *

It was late when Thirteen arrived home. Her apartment was dark as she trudged sleepily through the door. Apparently, she and Rachel couldn't enjoy any spontaneous time together either. Without turning any lights on, she walked through the living room and towards the bedroom. She only managed to get a few feet before she crashed into something and fell to her feet.

"Fuck!" Thirteen cried. Before she knew it, the lights were on and Rachel was by her side. Thirteen glared in frustration as she caught a glimpse of what had tripped her up. Her couch had been moved into the center of the walkway. "What the hell? Why would you move my couch?"

"Sorry," Rachel apologized as she pulled Thirteen from the floor. "I figured you'd turn the lights on. I was trying to make room."

"Room for what?"

Rachel smiled and gestured to the center of the living room. A large blanket laid spread out with plates, silverware, and a chilled bottle of wine atop it. "I unplanned for us to have a mini Thanksgiving."

"Unplanned?"

"Planning without expectations," Rachel said with a smile. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving. Give me a minute to change and I'm all yours." Thirteen planted an appreciative kiss on Rachel's lips and ran off to her bedroom.

Rachel hurried to gather together their dinner and arrange it just so on the blanket. She filled two glasses with wine and tried to temper her excitement with a casual pose by her picnic spot. Thirteen returned shortly dressed in a ratty t-shirt and pajama bottoms. It only took a moment for Rachel to lose her composure as she burst into a fit of giggles at the sight of Thirteen's attire.

"What's so funny? Does Mini Thanksgiving have a dress code?"

"No," Rachel said, pulling herself together. "It's just not what I expected. You look very cute."

Thirteen smiled and joined Rachel on the blanket. They ate quietly for a while, simply enjoying their time together. Rachel chewed thoughtfully as a question turned over in her mind. "If we had a wishbone, what would you wish for?"

"I don't believe in wishes."

"Seriously?"

Thirteen shrugged her shoulders, "Wishing never works. You say a few words, send them out to the universe, and sit around hoping for it to come true. If you want something, just go out and make it happen."

"Wow. Someone never got a pony," Rachel joked. She smiled as she received a laugh from Thirteen. "I would have to disagree. I think wishing makes you work harder to make things happen. A wish actualizes what you want. It puts it into words and makes it a reality. Once it's real, you're an idiot if you don't go out and work for it."

"Interesting," Thirteen said. "In that case, I would wish for us to have moments like this all the time."

"We can. Although, judging by the past week, I think there will be a lot of misses," Rachel slid closer to Thirteen and wound their fingers together. "But, I see many more occasions like this in our future. I have a key to your place, I'll get you a key to mine, we'll make it work."

Thirteen smiled and kissed Rachel deeply. She pulled back and ran her hand over Rachel's cheek. "I really love you," Thirteen said, nervously biting her lip as she spoke.

"I love you, too," Rachel replied.

Thirteen shook her head and tried to organize her thoughts. These feelings were altogether new to her and her voice trembled as she began to speak. "No, I mean, I've never felt this way about anyone. Ever. You understand me. You get how I'm feeling without me having to say a word. You see things from angles I can't. You just sort of pick up where I leave off. I love you so much."

Rachel broke into a beaming smile and Thirteen returned it. "I feel very privileged to be the person you open up to," Rachel said. "It makes me even more motivated to make your wish come true."

Rachel pulled Thirteen into a marathon of a kiss. When they finally broke apart, Thirteen leaned her head against Rachel's, looking fondly into her eyes. Her heart was racing, she felt nervous and uncertain, but for the first time in longer than she could remember, Thirteen wasn't afraid. She wasn't alone.


	17. Chapter 17

It turns out December is the busiest month of the year. Sorry. But you all get rewarded with a super long chapter. It's a little heavy on the hospital scenes, but Thirteen had a lot of them this episode. I hope you like it. Also, thanks for all the great reviews, favorites, and subscriptions!

* * *

Thirteen trailed her way down Rachel's body. She rolled her tongue over Rachel's nipple, quickly garnering a moan in reward. Rachel arched her back lithely, pressing her body harder into Thirteen's. Thirteen had long passed the point of making Rachel squirm. She had already begun to quiver and tremble with need as Thirteen placed achingly slow kisses on her stomach. Thirteen ran her tongue over Rachel's navel while her hands played at the inside of her thighs. Just as Thirteen began to lower herself to her ultimate destination, her phone rang. She and Rachel both let out sighs of disgust.

"Ignore it," Rachel said. She pulled Thirteen closer and kissed her urgently.

"I can't."

"You can. It's only seven." Rachel continued to assail Thirteen's mouth and neck with kisses, trying to make it difficult for her to concentrate.

"That's the third time they've called," Thirteen insisted. "They'll just keep trying."

"Forget about them. Just fuck me."

Rachel kissed Thirteen again, and nearly thought she had her convinced, before Thirteen broke away and grabbed her phone. "Hello?" she answered. Rachel promptly flopped her head back and groaned loudly. She shook her head in disbelief and pulled herself from under Thirteen. Thirteen looked at her with knitted brows and mouthed "I'm sorry." She nodded and muttered a few answers before reluctantly mumbling, "I'll be in as soon as I can, Foreman."

At the mention of Foreman's name Rachel launched herself from the bed and headed for the bathroom.

"What?" Thirteen asked following her.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing. You can't get angry every time I talk to Foreman."

"I'm not angry."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not," Rachel insisted. "I'm frustrated. We can't even have an hour together before work."

"This is my job, Rachel. It's unpredictable and whenever we get a case I have to go."

"I know," Rachel sighed. "I know you do. I'm not trying to be an ass. I'm just –"

"Frustrated."

"Yeah," Rachel nodded. "I'm sorry. Between my cases and your cases, I feel like I've barely seen you this week. Foreman being the one to call was just the goddamn icing on the cake."

"So, you hate him because he's my ex?"

"No, I hate him because he's an asshole."

"Where was all this when I was pissed at him?"

"I was trying to reassure you. You were slamming doors and screaming at the top of your lungs, but you weren't wrong."

"Huh," Thirteen muttered.

"What?"

"It's just kind of nice to have you commiserating with my anger."

Rachel gave a small smile and rolled her eyes. "Watch me commiserate my way into a cold shower." As she stepped under the spray of frigid water, she saw Thirteen move to join her. "It doesn't work if you share," she said, shooing Thirteen away with her hand.

* * *

The couple rode to the hospital together without any further argument. As she drove, Thirteen let her gaze flicker over to Rachel. She studied her for a moment, watching as Rachel sat with her arms folded tightly across her chest. Thirteen parked quickly and turned to Rachel.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked.

"I'll be fine."

"I don't like sending you off to work sexually frustrated."

Rachel laughed and met Thirteen with a smile. "It's okay. I'm still restricted to paperwork, so I've got plenty of time to sneak down for a run and burn off some energy."

"Okay," Thirteen said. She leaned in for what would be their last display of affection until they were behind closed doors. She kissed Rachel quickly and asked, "Grab some coffee with me before you go?" Rachel nodded and they headed into the building.

As they entered the cafeteria, the rustle of newspaper caught their attention. Thirteen and Rachel turned to see House sitting by the carafes.

"I just read the most interesting article," House said. "It seems that in some occupations employees actually arrive in a reasonable amount of time when their employers call them."

"It's only been twenty minutes since Foreman called me," Thirteen said. "Besides, I'm more than an hour earlier than usual, which is more than two hours earlier than you usually get here."

"And yet I'm the one waiting on you," House said. He took notice of Rachel as she quietly handed Thirteen her coffee. "Living together already?"

"We don't live together," Thirteen said quickly.

"Right," House nodded.

"Back off, House. We're just friends," Rachel shot. "I had car trouble and Remy gave me a ride. That's why she's ten seconds late."

"You do realize lesbians are the angry ones, right?" House quipped. "At most you should be cranky."

"After the way my morning started, I deserve to be more than cranky," Rachel said. She turned to Thirteen before heading off, "I'll see you later, Remy."

As Rachel left the cafeteria, House watched her walk away, looking her from top to bottom. Thirteen nudged him with her elbow when she noticed.

"If you really aren't sleeping with her," House started, "you are so much dumber than I have ever said you were." He watched Thirteen carefully as she shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. "Go meet Taub and Chase in the lab."

Thirteen unhurriedly headed off to join her fellow teammates. When she walked into the lab Chase was peering into a microscope while Taub took samples and prepared slides.

"What are we doing?" Thirteen asked.

"We need to find a reason for lung infiltrates," Chase said. "We're looking for environmental or toxic causes."

"And that takes three of us?"

"It does when you have to sort through all of that," Taub answered. He pointed to a nearby table filled with items they had gathered from the patient's home.

"So, where's Foreman?"

"He didn't feel the need to stay and help, so he's delegating," Taub muttered in annoyance.

"Great. He's not done making my morning miserable," Thirteen said under her breath.

"What?" Taub and Chase asked in unison.

"Nothing," Thirteen said quickly. "He really needs to be reminded that he's not in charge."

Taub stopped what he was doing and Chase looked up curiously. "What did you have in mind?" Chase asked.

"I'll think of something," she said eagerly.

* * *

It was early afternoon when Thirteen finally tracked down Foreman. He sat in the team office poring over the case file. Thirteen paused outside the door, hesitant to have another encounter with him. After a moment she shrugged off her uncertainty and walked into the office.

"We ruled out environmental and toxic causes. The patient just developed severe muscle weakness in his arms. I'm thinking Lambert-Eaton."

Foreman glanced up briefly before returning to the file, "You think he's got lung cancer? He's not even hypercalcaemic."

"Hypercalcaemia isn't always present. Lambert-Eaton is a much stronger indicator."

"Alright. Get a CT and biopsy anything you find," Foreman said dismissively.

"Uh-huh, or you could do that while I consult Wilson, which is where I was heading."

"Is there a problem?"

"Yeah, while the rest of us are doing all the legwork, you're in here reading."

"I'm reading the patient's file," Foreman said, raising his voice slightly. "You make it sound like I'm sitting on my ass doing nothing."

Thirteen was starting to get frustrated. "You don't get to delegate responsibilities to us."

"That's what this is about? You can't handle me supervising you?"

"You're not House. You're not our boss," she blurted. Before either of them could respond, Thirteen's phone rang. She answered it and hung it up as quickly as she had received the call. "The patient just attacked Chase before having a seizure. Are you going to help us now?"

* * *

Thirteen and Foreman joined the rest of the team in the MRI suite. When they had a clear image of his brain the answer became obvious.

"Limbic encephalitis," Foreman muttered. He was somewhat slack-jawed as he turned to Thirteen. "You were right. It's got to be lung cancer."

"I'll go get Wilson," Thirteen said. She wore the slightest smile of satisfaction as she headed off. When she reached Wilson's office, she quickly knocked and entered his office.

"Got a minute?"

"What do you need?" Wilson asked.

"Thirty-eight year-old male presented with lung infiltrates, then developed Lambert-Eaton syndrome and limbic encephalitis. He just went into a rage and had a seizure. We X-rayed his lungs but didn't find anything. The guys are running a CT scan now."

"You should do a bronchoscopy and sputum cytology as well," Wilson said. "I'll help."

Minutes later, Thirteen was helping Wilson prepare the patient for the procedure. They carefully began to lower the bronchoscope into his mouth and down to his lungs. No sooner had they begun the procedure than the patient began to seize again. He was quickly taking a turn for the worse.

* * *

That afternoon, after stabilizing her patient, Thirteen slunk away to Rachel's office. She plodded into the office and flung herself into a chair with a heavy sigh.

"Everything okay?" Rachel asked.

"My patient is dying."

"What happened?"

"He developed limbic encephalitis secondary to lung cancer. It's putting pressure on his brain stem, which is lowering his respiration and heart rate. We don't think he'll make it through the day," Thirteen groaned.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said softly. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Have lunch with me?"

"Of course. Where would you like to go?"

"The cafeteria's good with me."

"Seriously? I know we have better than average hospital food, but still." Rachel stopped railing against the cafeteria as she noticed Thirteen simply staring at her. "Okay, hospital food it is."

Rachel rose from her desk and wrapped her arms around Thirteen. She held her tightly for a few moments before letting go and leading her through the door.

When they reached the cafeteria it was crowded. Thirteen and Rachel waded through the mass of people as they made their way to the line.

"Why don't you find a table," Rachel suggested. "I'll grab us something."

Thirteen nodded and headed off quickly. Rachel groaned and took her place in the long line. She only had a moment to herself before Foreman lined up next to her.

"Rachel," he opened. "I've never seen you down here for lunch."

"Long lines, mediocre food, communal tables with people you see way too much anyway. I had to see what I was missing."

"Could I ask you a question?"

"I guess," Rachel shrugged.

"Does Remy talk about me at all?"

"She called you an asshole last week, does that count?" Rachel smirked as a dejected look flashed over Foreman's face. "No, she doesn't talk about you."

"How's she doing?"

"Fine."

"She's been a little short-tempered with me lately."

"You've given her some pretty good reasons to act that way," Rachel replied. She counted the number of people left before she could grab her lunch and go. There were only a few more, but time seemed to be passing very slowly.

"I just want us to be able to work together in a civil environment," Foreman said.

"If I know Remy, she's being as civil as can be expected. What you want is to be able to work in a comfortable environment, and I don't think that's possible with someone you used to date."

"I was just hoping you could –"

"Let me stop you right there. It's not going to happen," Rachel said shortly.

"Did I do something to upset you?"

"Yes," Rachel answered. "You fired Remy."

"So, because your friend is pissed at me, you're going to carry on her grudge?"

"That's right," Rachel nodded. "But rest assured, I have a special sort of loathing for you that is all my own." She quickly paid for her lunch and met Thirteen at a table. "Now I remember why I eat in my office. This like fucking high school."

"What was that about with Foreman?"

"I'm cranky because I didn't get to have sex this morning," Rachel said with an irritated smirk.

"Be serious," Thirteen said. "I mean, I'm sure that's a factor and I'm really sorry, but stop deflecting."

"He wanted me to help smooth things over between the two of you. Or so I assume. I cut him off before he could finish."

"What did he say before you cut him off?" Thirteen asked.

"He said wants a more civil working environment."

"And you said?"

"I told him I thought he was just trying to make himself more comfortable. He's such an ass," Rachel scoffed.

"I'm pretty sure I said those exact words not too long ago."

"But he's so fucking arrogant. He just walks up with this self-important look on his face and thinks everyone else will bend to his will."

"I thought you said to let that go."

"Yeah, I said you should let it go. I'm just getting started."

Rachel folded her arms across her chest in a huff. Under the table Thirteen nudged her gently with her knee. "Let it go. Why are you getting so worked up over this?"

"He still has feelings for you."

Thirteen sighed loudly, "What did he say."

"Nothing," Rachel muttered irritably. "There was just something in the way he spoke."

Thirteen rolled her eyes dramatically. "Please don't tell me you're the jealous type," she groaned.

"I'm not. Not even a little," Rachel replied, shaking her head. "I am, however, the territorial type."

"And the difference would be?"

"Jealousy means I feel threatened and want to run him down before he has the chance to make a move on you. Territoriality means I want to outline the boundaries of our relationship in bright yellow runway paint and do everything I can to make sure he knows you're mine."

"I'm yours? I'm not sure whether I should find that romantic or possessive."

"Neither," Rachel shrugged. She quickly donned a lopsided smile and eyed Thirteen from under her lashes. "But I hope it leans towards romantic. It's a statement of fact. We belong to each other. I'm yours and you're mine."

Thirteen smiled and bit her lip bashfully, "Do me a favor and forget about the paint. I think it's best if we fly under the radar. I'd really like to get back to having a private zone. Then again, Taub knows, so either he's learned to keep his mouth shut or everyone will find out soon enough."

Rachel raised an eyebrow, "Who do you work for? I doubt Taub's the one we have to worry about. If anyone is going to out us it'll be House. He's already seen us together."

"I never thought privacy could be this hard," Thirteen mused.

"It's kind of fun," Rachel said, smirking. "Surreptitious meetings in my office, secret dates. I like it being just you and me."

"So, you want to keep things secret?"

"No," Rachel replied, shaking her head. "People will find out eventually. I just mean that right now it's nice not to have others looking in."

Thirteen nodded understandingly, "Well, now that you've calmed down, how would you go about knocking Foreman down a peg?"

"Money," Rachel answered simply.

"What do you mean?"

"Foreman is excessively concerned with status, and money is a concrete indicator of one's status. So, if he thought he made less money than you, he'd get completely bent out of shape."

"That's brilliant."

"And so simple. Flash a little bling, maybe buy a new outfit. He'll completely fall for it."

"You'll find any excuse to shop, won't you?" Thirteen asked. She chuckled slightly as Rachel nodded. "There's just one problem. I don't own any bling."

"Leave that to me. I've got just the thing to get into Foreman's head."

* * *

The next morning Thirteen prepared for work at Rachel's apartment. She was dressed and ready, sipping coffee while she typed away on her laptop. When she was finished, she printed out what she'd been working on and examined it carefully. Feeling satisfied with her work, she smiled and took it to Rachel.

"Look at this," Thirteen said.

Rachel took the paper from her and looked it over. "Your paystub? What about it?"

"Look carefully," Thirteen said.

"Your middle name is Beauregard?" Rachel said, laughing a little.

Thirteen lightly slapped Rachel's arm, "Look at the amount."

"This is almost as much as I make," Rachel noticed. "House can't possibly be this generous."

"Unfortunately not, but it's a pretty convincing fake isn't it?"

"Sure is. So, what's the plan? You leave this somewhere Foreman can conveniently find it and watch his world view crumble?"

"Yes," Thirteen nodded. "And I get Taub and Chase in on it, too."

"Very nice," Rachel said. She kissed Thirteen deeply while she skimmed her hands under her shirt.

"Mm-mmm," Thirteen mumbled into the kiss. She swatted Rachel's hands away and stepped back. "Don't start. We both have to get to work and I have to put my evil plan in motion."

"Fine," Rachel sighed, holding her hands up in defeat. She kissed Thirteen briefly and headed for the door. "I'll see you at lunch."

* * *

When Thirteen arrived at the hospital, she hurried to the cafeteria. Taub and Chase were already sitting together at a table when she walked in. She grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down with them.

"What's got you so excited?" Chase asked noticing the smile on Thirteen's face.

"I have the perfect prank to put Foreman in his place," Thirteen said. She pulled out the forged paystub and laid it on the table.

"That looks perfect," Taub said.

A crafty smile crossed Thirteen's lips, "I leave this somewhere Foreman will find it, you two pretend you make the same amount, and we wait for the meltdown."

"You're enjoying this a little too much," Chase noted.

"So, you're out?" Thirteen asked.

"No, I'm in. Just dial back the excitement. You'll give us away."

The three of them finished their coffee and headed for the team office. It was empty when they arrived, allowing Thirteen to put the pieces of her plan into place. She placed the paystub carefully by the trash bin and returned to her seat. It was only a few minutes before Foreman arrived and took his usual seat at the head of the table.

Soon after the team had assembled, House appeared. He walked in eagerly and began tossing out copies of the team's latest case file.

"Thirty-two year-old man," House announced. "Recently developed loud noise-induced vertigo. CT was clean, no internal bleeding, no edema. Everything else is in the file," he said as he turned to Chase. "Cameron get you hair in the divorce?"

"This guy strained his back three years ago and that's it. All the rest of these pages are blank," Taub said.

"Yes, he won't tell us anything," House replied. "Understandable since he's a drug dealer."

Thirteen's eyes widened at House's apparent excitement, "So, he's dangerous and withholding, which you find irresistible. But guys like that, they never call." Thirteen quickly buried her own excitement as she noticed Foreman grab his empty coffee cup and head for the trash bin.

"He actually said he was a drug dealer?" Chase asked.

"Not out loud," House said. "But he was wearing a solid gold Patek Philippe, his friend had a Rolex. Their phones were prepaid burners, they could toss them as soon as they're done."

"It doesn't matter if this guy's a drug dealer or not," Foreman said returning to the table. "Noise-induced vertigo means ear or brain. Head CT was clean, so I'm thinking acoustic neuroma. We need to do an ABR to test his hearing."

"Acoustic neuroma fits," House nodded. "So does lidocaine toxicity. Or benzocaine. Depends on what he's cutting the coke with."

"So, now he's not just a drug dealer, he's a cocaine dealer?" Thirteen asked.

"He seemed peppy," House replied. He stood and began to head for the door. "You test his ears, I'm going to go test his cocaine."

"You think this guy's just going to hand over a briefcase full of illegal drugs because you ask nicely?" Taub asked.

"I hope not," House answered.

The team shook their heads at House for a few moments before Foreman and Taub left to test the patient. When they were out of sight Chase turned to Thirteen. "He took the bait."

"Won't be long now," Thirteen said with a smirk. "I'm going to go draw blood before they get started. Might as well rule out the boring stuff."

Thirteen followed Foreman and Taub's trail to the testing suite. When Foreman noticed her, he shot her an awkward look of annoyance. He couldn't get out of her way fast enough. Thirteen quickly collected a few vials of blood from their patient and continued on her way. She only stopped long enough to give Taub a look that said everything was going according to plan.

* * *

That following morning Thirteen sat with Rachel, enjoying a leisurely breakfast at one of their favorite diners. Thirteen kept reaching for Rachel's plate with her fork no matter how many times Rachel would knock it away with her own. When she grew tired of defending her breakfast Rachel pulled her plate from the table and wrapped her arms around it protectively.

"Leave my waffles alone!"

"But you have blueberries," Thirteen said.

"If you wanted blueberries, you should have ordered them."

"I didn't want any until I saw you with them." Thirteen pushed her lips into a pout and batted her eyelashes at Rachel.

"Don't look at me like that. You wanted pancakes, so eat your own food," Rachel fussed. As Thirteen rolled her eyes and finally went back to her breakfast, Rachel placed her plate back on the table and started eating again. "By the way," she said after a while. "How's the Foreman freak-out going?"

"Good," Thirteen said with a smile. "He found the paystub and Taub said he was obsessing over it all day."

"Nice. I brought you this," Rachel said, pulling a watch from her purse and handing it to Thirteen. "I thought it might help."

"It's gorgeous," Thirteen said.

"Platinum band, flashy face, diamond on the twelve. It should really throw him for a loop."

"And when this is all over with, it'll make a lovely addition to my jewelry box," Thirteen added. Rachel promptly began to shake her head and Thirteen shrugged. "It was worth a try."

"Sorry, it was a graduation gift from Evan. If you like, I could get you one."

Thirteen smiled, "There is a line between being thoughtful and generous and spoiling me."

"Can't I do it all?" Rachel asked.

"You're making me look bad. I've got to come up with some romantic gestures of my own."

"It'll have to wait," Rachel said, glancing at her watch. "We've got to get to work."

The two of them split the bill and walked to the parking lot. They shared a brief kiss then pulled away in separate cars.

* * *

Thirteen wrung her hands anxiously. She sat around the glass table with the rest of the team. The afternoon was wearing on and they were fruitlessly trying to solve their case. While she brainstormed, Thirteen pulled her sleeves back and gestured emphatically as she tried to draw Foreman's attention to Rachel's watch. House paced back and forth as the team carried on with their differential.

"What happened after the seizure?" he asked.

"They put the patient on vasodilators and got his hypertension under control," Taub said.

"He got worse here at the hospital," Thirteen said. "Means thug life probably isn't what's making him sick."

"Which means we can stop the bloodhound gang routine and go back to being doctors," Foreman added.

"But we're doctors all the time. It's so boring," House whined. The rest of the team simply glared at him unsympathetically. "Fine."

"Could be sick sinus syndrome," Chase offered.

"No chest pain, shortness of breath," Taub said. "Brain aneurism secondary to polycystic kidney disease?"

"Normal urinalysis, kidney's impalpable," Foreman added. Thirteen called attention to her wrist again, finally getting Foreman's attention. "Is that a new watch?" he asked.

Thirteen looked at the watch nonchalantly, "Thought I'd get myself a little treat. What if it's not his brain, but it's on the way to his brain? Carotid stenosis."

House nodded, "Get an ultrasound of his carotids. See if his arteries are clogged."

Thirteen rose from her seat and went for the door with Taub close behind her. They wheeled the patient from his room to the imaging suite. It took less than ten minutes for them to view his heart and return to House.

When they entered House's office, Thirteen and Taub found him tuning what seemed to be an elaborate radio transmitter.

"Ultrasound showed no narrowing or obstruction in the patient's carotid," Thirteen announced.

"Not that he's worried," Taub said. "Keeps asking when he can leave."

Voices suddenly crackled over the receiver. For a few moments they could hear the patient complaining about the cafeteria food before the conversation disintegrated into static.

"You bugged his room?" Thirteen asked.

"The patient sleeps in the building where they keep their stash," House explained. "Eventually he'll say something that gives away where that is. Then we'll find out what's making him sick."

"But we ruled out environmental causes," Thirteen said.

"You ruled out environmental causes," House quipped.

"And you pretended to agree just so we'd take him out of his room, so you could plant a bug," Taub added.

"Carotid stenosis was a decent idea," House said as he continued tuning. "But an even decenter idea is that he has toxins stored in his fat cells and every calorie he burns makes him sicker."

"If we're going with toxic exposure we should just start testing for the most likely suspects," Taub suggested.

"Bug's a better idea than blindly running tests for days," Thirteen said.

The receiver emitted a loud screech of feedback and House turned it off in frustration. "Tell him it'll take weeks. It'll be faster."

* * *

While Taub set off to lie to the patient, Thirteen took a break for lunch. She dashed to the lobby to retrieve her food from the delivery person, then quickly returned to the team office to grab a few more things. She made her way towards Rachel's office, stopping halfway and ducking into an empty room. She picked up the phone and connected to the front desk. "Could you have Dr. Galvin come to the clinic, please?" she requested. Thirteen peered from the room and watched Rachel round the corner. As soon as the coast was clear, she sprang into action. She let herself into Rachel's office and began to hurriedly set things out. When she had finished laying out the food, Thirteen placed two small pillar candles on the table and lit them. Within moments, she heard the door open behind her as Rachel returned.

"What's all this?" Rachel asked. A surprised smile teased her face as she took stock of everything.

"I thought I'd try my hand at being romantic. Not too bad if I say so myself," Thirteen said.

Rachel closed the gap between herself and Thirteen, meeting her with a kiss, "Not bad at all." Thirteen lead Rachel around the desk and pulled the chair out for her. When she was seated, Thirteen returned to the other side and retrieved a bottle. "You know, my patients sort of complain when I work with a buzz on," Rachel joked as Thirteen opened the bottle.

"You're not seeing patients."

"Good point. Bring on the booze."

Thirteen tried not to spill as she laughed at Rachel's comment while she poured. "This happens to be the finest in non-alcoholic sparkling beverages." She offered Rachel a glass and finally settled into her seat.

"So, tell me," Rachel said as she dug into her lunch. "When did you plan all this?"

"Yesterday. It became abundantly clear that this case was going to take forever."

"How so?"

"The only history we have on him is an old back injury."

"He won't tell you anything?"

Thirteen shook her head, "House got so desperate he bugged the patient's room."

"I keep thinking that I'll eventually get used to House's antics, but he never ceases to shock me."

"It's when he doesn't bother you that you have to worry," Thirteen said. "By the way, your watch worked like a charm."

Rachel pressed her fingertips together and drummed her fingers deviously, "Phase one is complete. What's next in your evil plan?"

"Phase two is pretty much continue with phase one until Foreman cracks."

"Just don't get too carried away with it. Please," Rachel said.

"I won't," Thirteen insisted. Her phone suddenly began to vibrate, causing her to fish through her lab coat for it. When she finally retrieved it, she could only grimace at the message it had for her. "Is this still romantic if I leave?"

"Yes. It's strange, but I'm starting to get used to sharing you with a bunch of guys."

"At least I can say I've mastered the five minute date," Thirteen said drolly. She chocked down another few bites and gave Rachel a kiss goodbye. "I'll try to finish early. Enjoy your lunch." Thirteen quickly sped from Rachel's office and back to her own department. In the team office Chase sat waiting for her, casually leafing through a newspaper as he did. "You did not just send me a text saying House wants us to tail the patient. Are you serious?"

"I'm serious," Chase said. "We'd better get going, he's just about ready to leave."

* * *

Thirteen sped along in pursuit of her patient. As irritating as it was to be sent out to track a mobster, the excitement of the moment was getting to her. She ignored Chase as he complained like a backseat driver, yelling, "Not so close!"

"Relax, Chase. I've driven a car once or twice before," Thirteen groaned.

"This is ridiculous."

"It beats sitting in a lab all day."

"In a lab there is significantly less chance of getting killed," Chase grumbled. "You're too close, slow down."

Thirteen glared at Chase, "We're in a car in broad daylight. What's going to happen?"

"You honestly think he doesn't have a gun in that car?"

"That he's going to use to shoot doctors?" Thirteen snapped. Chase's nagging was beginning to frustrate her.

"Just back off," Chase urged quietly. He let out a sigh of relief as Thirteen finally slowed down a bit. "Very well played with the watch by the way."

"Borrowed it from a friend," Thirteen said with a pleased smile.

"How long are we going to keep lying to him?"

"Until it's no longer fun," Thirteen said. She rolled her eyes as Chase shot her a stern look. "We all thought he needed to be taken down a few notches."

"So, we're just having fun, not getting even?"

"Oh, crap," Thirteen mumbled. The traffic light ahead of her suddenly turned red, leaving their patient driving along on the other side of the intersection. More than happy for an excuse not to answer Chase's last question, Thirteen stepped on the gas.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Chase muttered as the engine growled heavily.

"He's going to get away!" Thirteen insisted as she sped through the light. As soon as she did, a police siren sounded behind her. Chase turned to look out the rearview mirror, a cocky smirk crossing his face as he snickered at her. "Shut up," she snapped.

Thirteen pulled over quickly and the police car parked behind her. She pulled out all the documents she would need to present to the officer and began the excruciating wait for him to walk from his car to hers. After five minutes, the officer slowly sauntered to her window.

"License, registration, and proof of insurance," the officer said flatly. Thirteen offered the items quickly and the officer reviewed them. He walked back to his car and didn't return for another few minutes. As he returned to Thirteen's car, writing out what was no doubt a ticket, a tow truck arrived. "Ma'am, can you step out of the car, please?" the officer asked.

"Sir, I just–"

"Ma'am, you were doing forty-five in a thirty, and you ran through a red light," the officer explained. "I'm going to have to write you ticket and confiscate your vehicle. Both of you step out of the car."

The officer led Thirteen and Chase to his car. Once they were loaded into the back, he signaled the tow operator to hitch Thirteen's car to his rig. As Thirteen watched her car being towed away she began lightly banging her head against the window.

"You're going to wind up with a headache," Chase whispered.

"Thanks so much," Thirteen mumbled.

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Thirteen and Chase stepped from the police department and into a cab. By the time they returned to the hospital it was nearly time for them to go home. They slowly headed to office, far less than eager to have House chew them out. When they reached the team office, they found Foreman and Taub sitting alone, reviewing the patient's file.

Foreman's head shot up as they walked through the door. "What happened?" he asked.

"We lost him," Chase admitted.

"Well, the ER found him," Taub said. "His friend brought him back in with fever and delirium."

"I can't believe it took you three hours to get nothing. What is House paying you two for?" Foreman scoffed.

"It's not our fault we're not skilled in the fine art of tailing," Thirteen objected. "We're doctors, not private investigators. I've got to go."

"Go where?" Foreman demanded. "We're not done."

"I don't answer to you," Thirteen snapped.

"There's not much more we can do for him tonight," Taub said. "We put him on steroids and antipyretics and go home." Taub headed for the door and Foreman followed him heatedly.

"Still, think it's a good idea to keep messing with him?" Chase murmured as they disappeared.

"Not now, Chase." Thirteen gathered her things and began to make her exit.

"Do you want me to take you to pick up your car?" Chase asked.

"No, I have a friend who'll take me," Thirteen answered. "Thanks for the offer." Thirteen slunk to Rachel's office, the stress of her day weighing her down. She slipped into the office and leaned heavily against the door.

"I'll be damned," Rachel said. "You actually did finish early."

"I wouldn't get too excited about that. I need you to help me bail my car out," Thirteen said sheepishly.

"What happened?"

Thirteen hesitated for a moment, "House sent Chase and I to check the patient's home and the police towed my car and gave me a ticket. I parked illegally or something."

"Sounds like you've had a really crappy day," Rachel said. She grabbed her things and met Thirteen by the door, drawing her into a quick hug before they ducked out. "Let's go get your car."

* * *

The next couple of days were relatively uneventful for Thirteen. She was beginning to feel guilty about lying to Rachel and it nagged at her conscience. At work, she tried to keep herself out of trouble. She sat at House's desk, fiddling with the receiver to the bug he had planted. She was determinedly searching for an open channel when House burst into the office. He eyed her curiously before joining the rest of the team by the whiteboard. The guys quickly briefed him on the latest updates of the case. Having discovered and ruled out the patient's use of beta-blockers, they were trying to narrow down where he might have driven after they lost him, but House seemed more interested in Thirteen.

"That receiver doesn't respond to manual stimulation," he said to Thirteen. "Maybe if you took off your shirt."

Thirteen rolled her eyes dramatically, "Actually, I resorted to something more exotic. I call it reading the instructions. Turns out if you screw the antennae into the wrong sockets it doesn't actually work." Thirteen smiled to herself, feeling smug, until the loud screech of feedback caused her to rip the headphones from her ears. She cleared her throat sheepishly as the rest of the team stared at her. "It's supposed to search for an open frequency."

Chase continued talking as Thirteen tried to resist the reddening of her cheeks. House stared vacantly in her direction, thinking something over. "There's got to be at least one open frequency," he muttered absently. He scrambled suddenly from the room as the team hurried behind him. House hobbled down to the patient's room, barging in on him and his friend. Thirteen followed him in cautiously, staying quiet while House worked his deceptive magic.

"I need a few minutes with your friend," he said. The patient's companion simply shot him a suspicious look. "Or stay if you want," House offered. He pulled a latex glove from the counter and waved it around. "Rectal exam."

"I'll check out the cafeteria," the man said quickly.

As soon as the man left, Thirteen slid the door closed and began shutting the blinds.

"Why the beta-blockers?" House asked the patient.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

To the patient's confusion, House began rooting around under his mattress. "Valium and Xanax actually reduce stress. Beta-blockers just control the symptoms of stress," House explained. The patient jumped in his bed as House began to lift up the mattress and search directly beneath him. "Keep the heart from racing, hands from shaking, all those stage fright issues. That's why some people take them when they perform." House pulled a pin-sized transmitter from the bed and the patient's face dropped in shock.

"What the hell is that?" he asked.

"This is my bug," House said proudly. He began searching behind the pillows, gaining a few tentative objections from the patient. He quickly found another transmitter hiding amongst the down and pulled it free. "And this, this is yours."

Thirteen stepped forward to examine the transmitter, pulling it from House's hand curiously. "You bugged your own room? Are you an informant?"

"An informant would have sold his pals out to us at the first sign of a sniffle," House said. "This guy is a cop."

House and Thirteen left the patient to himself and stepped outside. Out in the hallway, House called the whole team together and held a brief conference. After quickly telling the others what he had discovered and distributing a few witty quips, he sent Thirteen and Chase in to convince the patient to give them more information.

"If you won't talk to us, we'll find someone who will," Thirteen opened forcefully. "I mean, you must have a supervisor, a handler."

The patient smiled smugly, "Good luck with that. You don't know my real name. You don't know if I'm local, or state, FBI, DEA. But, by all means, get on the phone."

"I get it," Chase cut in. "These guys are lowlifes, you want them off the street."

"They're not just lowlifes," the patient scoffed. "Eddie killed a snitch three weeks ago. Boss's orders." Until this point, Thirteen had been fidgeting out of frustration, but she stopped suddenly and shot Chase a nervous look. "The boss, he's one of the biggest cocaine importers in the entire state, and he wants to expand down to Philly. Tomorrow night, he and Eddie are meeting the big fish, and the cops are going to bust it. But, if you guys get caught poking around there, the whole thing gets called off."

"That's noble," Thirteen said. "But you can't put your life at risk."

"I've been undercover for sixteen months. I haven't seen my wife, my house, my dog," the patient said. "I have put far too much into this and I will not let it fail. So, just keep me alive for another twenty-four hours and I will tell you everything you need to know."

Thirteen looked at the patient with a new understanding. She felt a mixture of respect and sympathy welling inside her before a sharp knocking interrupted them. Eddie stepped back into the room and the patient suddenly put his guard back up. Before too much could be said, the patient clutched his stomach and began to scream in pain.

* * *

The team was gathered in the office. Chase sat in his green scrubs, fresh from surgery. The patient had started forming clots, which were obstructing blood flow in his bowel. Chase had needed to remove an entire foot of dead tissue.

Thirteen sat wringing her hands and rerunning the differential in her head, trying desperately to think of a solution. They simply didn't have enough information to make any headway.

"So, vertigo, fever, and thrombosis," Foreman recounted. "We already ruled out cancer and infection. He got worse on steroids, which suggests it's not autoimmune, so we're stuck with environmental."

"But what kind of environmentals?" Taub asked. "Toxins, parasites, allergens?"

"We should just pick the top ten possibilities and treat for all of them," Foreman suggested.

"Except that treating for everything could kill him faster than whatever's killing him," Thirteen said.

"Got a better idea?" House asked.

"Sort of," she said. "Chase is right, our patient's holding out for noble reasons, protecting his bust. Anybody else in that crew got sick I'm guessing they'd be a little more self-serving."

* * *

Once she had the go-ahead from House, Thirteen set off eagerly to implement her plan. She grabbed two cups of coffee from the cafeteria, treating one with a small dose of benzodiazepines, then went to the waiting room to sit with Eddie. She watched him for a moment from the hallway, remembering what her patient had said about him. After a while she approached him cautiously, handing him the coffee before taking a seat by his side.

"Surgery went well. You should be able to see him soon," Thirteen said. She watched carefully as Eddie took a long swig of the coffee.

"It used to be all about Ferberizing your kids, now they're saying it could mess them up," Eddie mumbled, referring to a parenting magazine he was reading. "Mine's six and a half."

Thirteen looked at Eddie strangely. While she was focused on thinking of him as the heartless, drug-peddling murderer her patient had described him as, that wasn't what she saw now. At the moment, he was a man concerned about the best way to raise a child while holding a constant vigil over his sick friend. The contradiction between these two versions of Eddie threw Thirteen, but she pressed forward. "Mickey's getting worse. A clot is a very bad sign. We really need you to tell us where he's been."

Eddie chuckled as he took another drink, "If I do that there's a good chance I could end up John Doe at the county ME."

"Look, Mickey got sick because he had the most exposure. Other guys are at risk too. You don't want to–" Thirteen paused as Eddie began breathing heavily. "You okay?"

"I feel dizzy," Eddie muttered.

"Are you diabetic?"

"No."

"When was the last time you were at your office?" Thirteen asked, pressing her fingers to Eddie's throat to take his pulse.

"Whoa. Did you drug me?"

"What?"

"You're trying to make me think that I'm sick so I'll take you to the stash."

"Of course not," Thirteen insisted. "But if you are sick–"

"I don't feel sick, I feel drugged. Trust me, I know the difference."

Frustrated by the failure of her plan, Thirteen stared off angrily for a moment. "You didn't even drink half of it. You'll be fine in an hour," she huffed. She quickly got up to leave but Eddie called after her.

"You think Mickey could die?" he asked. Thirteen spun around, but simply stared at him wordlessly. "It's just a deal. I'll take you."

Thirteen looked at Eddie hesitantly. She had gotten what she wanted, but now she actually had to accompany a murderer to his office.

* * *

Rachel quickly made her way to House's team office. Inside, she found only Taub intently reviewing a patient file.

"Have you seen Remy?" Rachel asked. Taub looked up and met her with a bewildered look. "Dr. Hadley? She also goes by Thirteen. You do realize she has an actual name, right?"

"Of course. I've just never actually heard it," Taub admitted sheepishly.

"Well, I don't generally use titles or cryptic nicknames to refer to friends or patients."

"Friends?" Taub asked. "You do know that I–"

"Shh-shh," Rachel interrupted. "I know you and Remy talk, but let's assume the walls have ears. So, have you seen her? She missed her appointment today."

Taub looked away from Rachel while he considered what to tell her. "She's searching the patient's office," he finally said.

Rachel looked at him squarely, "How much are you lying to me right now?"

Taub laughed a little and flashed a flustered smile. "Not at all," he said.

"You look guilty as hell, which I'm guessing means there's something unsavory about where she is or what she's doing, so which is it?"

Taub hesitated again before he spoke, "Everything's fine, Rachel. She's at a dry cleaner's. She should be back soon."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance. "Let me put this another way," she said to Taub. "As a department head and board member, I have influence over the distribution of things like raises and vacation pay. It would really help if you told me the truth right now."

"She's searching a dry cleaner's," Taub said, clearing his throat nervously. "With a drug-dealing mobster."

"Excuse me?" Rachel asked loudly. Her eyes grew wide and her jaw was set angrily. She quickly turned to leave, but did a sudden about-face and returned to Taub. "Yesterday when her car was impounded while checking the patient's home?"

"She ran a red light while tailing the patient, who we thought was a drug-dealing mobster."

Rachel nodded, "Thanks. Send her to my office when she gets back, please."

Rachel made a hasty exit and returned to her office to seethe. She picked up her phone half a dozen times only to place it back on the hook. She was too angry to speak and on her life she couldn't think of anything coherent to say. After hanging up the phone a few more times she decided it was best to wait until Thirteen returned to the hospital.

* * *

When Thirteen got back to the office, Taub met her anxiously. He started to pull her aside, but Chase and Foreman followed closely behind her.

"Dr. Galvin stopped by," he started, choosing his words carefully. "She wants to see you in her office. Something about your appointment."

Thirteen glanced at her watch, "Okay, I'll be right back."

"I'll walk with you," Taub blurted. He grabbed a few files from the table, "I've got to hand these off to Cuddy."

Thirteen eyed Taub strangely as they walked. She waited until they were halfway to Rachel's office before saying anything. "What's with you? Cuddy's office is in the opposite direction."

"I told Rachel where you were."

Thirteen abruptly stopped walking and glared at Taub. "Why would you do that? What the hell were you thinking?"

"She knew I was lying," Taub answered. "Then she said being a board member gave her pull over raises. I'm sorry."

"How much did you tell her?"

"Everything. Including how your car got impounded."

"Great," Thirteen muttered under her breath. She continued on to Rachel's office, but turned back to Taub briefly. "By the way, she's not on the board. She's just a better liar than you are."

Thirteen approached Rachel's door cautiously. She knocked lightly and waited for Rachel to beckon her in.

"Come in," Rachel called through the door.

Thirteen slowly entered and stood in front of Rachel's desk. "Taub said you were looking for me."

"Yeah, I was going to ask you to pick up my dry cleaning," Rachel said looking up. "But I guess I was too late."

"Rachel–"

"You lied to me. Twice."

"I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to worry."

"That doesn't make it better," Rachel said. "Why would you put yourself at risk like that?"

"It wasn't a risk. It's not like they were going to hurt any of us. We're trying to save this guy's life."

"And what about anyone else who might have been at the drug den? What were you thinking?"

"I was doing my job. This is what we do! Someone had to do the search."

"It didn't have to be you. You didn't even take one of the guys with you. I am so close to calling you a psych consult."

Thirteen rolled her eyes, "Don't be so dramatic."

"Don't shrug this off, Remy. I'm being serious."

"I know," Thirteen sighed. "I'm sorry."

"I don't know what crazy things House makes you do, and I really don't want to. I just want to know that you're safe. I'm not trying to make you to feel like you have to change your life now that you're with me, but stuff like this freaks me out."

Thirteen nodded, "If it bothers you that much, I won't volunteer for anymore risky outings. I'll only go if House makes me."

"Thank you," Rachel said solemnly. "Can you meet Dr. Lawson in the therapy suite? She's waiting for you."

"Can't you handle my appointment like always? I know you're still on probation, but it's not like I'm going to sue the hospital."

Rachel shook her head, "You should get used to Lawson anyway. She'll be handling your appointments from now on."

"So, I piss you off and you don't want to be my doctor anymore."

"No, I'm your girlfriend, so I can't be your doctor anymore. At least not directly. I'll still be the overseeing physician."

"What difference does it make that you're my girlfriend?" Thirteen asked.

"It makes a big difference to my boss. It's a conflict of interest. Plus, it makes things like ordering psych evaluations very complicated."

"It's not that big a deal."

"It is to me," Rachel insisted. "You do things for your job, I do things for mine. I'll still supervise your treatment plan and do your checkups, but I won't actually be there for therapy."

"I don't like this," Thirteen protested. "I don't want another doctor, Rachel. I want you."

"Look, I know it's weird getting used to a new doctor, but this is the way it has to be."

"So, that's it? We have to hash out my indiscretions, but you get the final say on yours."

"It's not an indiscretion, it's hospital policy. It's AMA policy," Rachel said angrily. "Why are you being so stubborn about this, Remy? I can't be your girlfriend and be your doctor."

"If you have a problem with the way I live my life then maybe you shouldn't be either," Thirteen shot.

"Remy–"

"Just don't, okay. You've made your feelings perfectly clear. I'll start seeing Lawson and you won't have to worry about me anymore." Thirteen flung the door to Rachel's office open harshly and stormed out. She headed down to the locker room, pulling out her workout clothes frantically. As she moved to pull her shirt on, her hand went rigid and began to jerk erratically. The spasm lasted only a few seconds but it was enough to push Thirteen's temper to a new level. She ripped her things from her locker and threw them across the room. She began punching and kicking the locker with all she had until her fists throbbed. As her fit subsided, Thirteen sank to the floor and pulled her knees to her chest. She held herself tightly and began to sob.

* * *

Days later, Thirteen sat in a dark restaurant booth with the rest of the team. They each solemnly sipped at drinks and picked over food they weren't hungry for. They stared off vaguely in different directions, not paying each other much attention. They had lost their patient.

Thirteen stared down at the table while the guys chatted idly. She was having more trouble with this than usual. Losing patients was always hard, but this patient had roused something in her. He had pulled something to the forefront of her mind that had been buried for a long while. She pushed her drink aside and hurriedly said goodbye to the guys.

Outside a heavy snow had begun to fall. Thirteen made her way to her car and slipped in. She drove slowly through the thickly flocked streets and shortly found herself outside of Rachel's building. She hesitated for a few minutes before the cold and her loneliness forced her inside. Thirteen pulled herself up the few flights to Rachel's door and knocked uncertainly. After a few minutes the door opened slowly.

"It's late, Rem. Can we skip the yelling and–" Rachel paused suddenly as she noticed Thirteen's demeanor. She stepped aside and let her enter. "What's going on?"

"He wasn't a drug-dealer," Thirteen muttered as she stared at the floor.

"What?"

"The patient he wasn't a drug-dealer, he was a cop."

"Was? You lost him?" Rachel asked.

Thirteen nodded, "He spent sixteen months of his life trying to put a bunch of mobsters in prison."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why you're telling me this."

"He put over a year of his life into this bust. I thought that if I could find what was making him sick and get him back out there, I don't know, I thought that something would be different because of me. But it's not. He's dead and I'm…"

"You're what?"

Thirteen shook her head and let out a heavy sigh. "I lied to you again," she said softly. "Before, when I apologized for going to the dry cleaner's, I didn't mean it. It was stupid and reckless, and it scared the shit out of me, but I wouldn't take it back."

"So, you came all the way over here to tell me that you're going to keep on taking crazy risks. Thanks."

"No, that's not what I meant. I said I wouldn't take anymore unnecessary risks and I promise you that I won't. I just–the patient made me feel–"

"What? What could he have possibly made you feel that would justify sneaking around with a murderer?" Rachel demanded.

Thirteen looked at her feet sheepishly and her voice nearly became a whisper, "He reminded me…"

"Reminded you of what?" Rachel asked, her voice softening.

"He reminded me of how short it all is. I don't have a lot of time left–"

"Remy…"

"No, just listen. I want to help people. I want to make a difference. I told the patient he shouldn't risk his own life, but why not? This is the only life we get and if we have a chance to change something, then why not take it?"

"You make a difference to me," Rachel said quietly. "And you don't have to put your life on the line to do it. If you want to take risks, you should, but take risks that won't end you. Make a difference by living as well and as long as you can."

Thirteen shook her head harshly, "But that's just it, Rachel. I don't have long. It doesn't matter if I risk my life because it's going to end soon anyway."

"It does matter!" Rachel yelled. Tears stung at her eyes as she glared at Thirteen. Thirteen was furiously blinking back tears of her own as Rachel pulled her tightly into her arms. "It always matters."

Thirteen sobbed heavily in Rachel's arms before Rachel lead her to bed. They settled in together, with Thirteen curling into Rachel as her body trembled. Rachel continued to hold her tightly as she tried desperately to calm her.

"You can't give up," Rachel whispered as she stroked Thirteen's back soothingly. "Not again. I won't let you. I won't lose you."


	18. Chapter 18

Treize ouvrit lentement les yeux et regarda autour de ce qu'elle pouvait voir de la salle. Elle regardait à la fenêtre où les nuances ont été heureusement établie et la lumière du soleil a été retenu derrière eux. Sensation inhabituelle de froid, elle blottis encore sous les couvertures et se roula en boule.

Le calme de l'appartement de Rachel entourée Treize comme les couvertures elle était enveloppée po Pendant quelques instants, elle a trouvé étrangement réconfortant avant que la sensation a été soudainement remplacé par la solitude. Elle enroulée sur elle-même encore jusqu'à ce que ses genoux étaient rentrés sous son menton. Tout comme elle a commencé à envisager de passer ses jours comme ça, Rachel marchait en Treize abaissé le couvre juste assez pour elle de regarder Rachel à pied du lit. Elle portait un plateau, qu'elle plaça entre elle et treize avant de s'installer sur le lit.

"Qu'est-ce que tu fais ici?" Treize demandé.

«Je vis ici», a déclaré Rachel avec un petit sourire.

"Je veux dire, pourquoi n'êtes-vous pas au travail?"

«Ma pratique est fermé pour les vacances. Je vous aurais réveillé, mais je ne pouvais me résoudre à le faire. "

«Ça ne fait rien. Maison de fermer trop, "Treize marmonné. «Il est tout aussi bien. Je ne veux pas voir quelqu'un aujourd'hui. "

"Dois-je vous laisser seul alors?"

"Vous n'êtes pas n'importe qui. Vous êtes la personne que j'aime. "

«Je suis aussi la personne que vous rompu avec l'autre jour."

«Je n'ai pas. Au moins, je ne voulais pas. J'étais en colère et je l'ai dit quelque chose de stupide. Je n'ai pas fait exprès. "

«Je sais», soupire Rachel. "Quand avons-nous commencer à se battre comme ça?"

"C'est de ma faute. Je n'aurais pas été tellement en colère contre vous. Vous venez de regarder pour moi. "

«Ce n'est pas votre faute."

"Il est," Treize insisté. «Je pensais que je faisais quelque chose qui importait, et je me sentais comme si vous étiez debout sur le chemin de cela. Je suis désolé j'ai paniqué sur vous. "

"Mais je me le procurer. Je me tenais à votre façon. J'étais le contrôle. "

"Vous n'étiez pas."

"Ouais, j'ai été", murmura-t-Rachel. "La nuit dernière n'était pas la première fois j'ai pensé à combien de temps vous avez quitté. C'est à l'arrière de l'esprit tout le temps. Je m'inquiète tellement. Chaque fois que je pense que tu fais quelque chose qui est la moindre peu dangereux, je vais à présent à paniquer, place surprotectrice. Je tiens à vous mettre dans une bulle protectrice ou quelque chose. "

«Une bulle pourrait être amusant. Je pourrais continuer zorbing, "Treize dit. Elle fendu d'un sourire, comme Rachel laissa échapper un petit rire. «J'aime que vous vous souciez assez parlé de moi à la surprotection. Je vais essayer de vous donner de moins parce que pour elle. "

Rachel sourit et pousse le plateau vers Treize, "Je vous ai apporté une offre de paix."

* * *

Haha! April Fool's! It's been a long time, so I hope this chapter's worth the wait. Seasonally, it's really late. Thirteen comes back really soon, so I hope to get some fresh insight. The wait is driving me crazy! Hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

Thirteen opened her eyes slowly and peered around at what she could see of the room. She looked to the window where the shades were thankfully drawn and the bright sunlight was restrained behind them. Feeling unusually cold, she huddled further beneath the covers and curled into a ball.

The quiet of Rachel's apartment surrounded Thirteen like the blankets she was wrapped in. For a few moments she found it strangely comforting before the feeling was suddenly replaced by loneliness. She curled further into herself until her knees were tucked beneath her chin. Just as she began to contemplate spending her day like that, Rachel walked in. Thirteen lowered the covers just enough for her to watch Rachel walk to the bed. She carried with her a tray, which she placed between herself and Thirteen before settling on the bed.

"What are you doing here?" Thirteen asked.

"I live here," Rachel said with a small smile.

"I mean, why aren't you at work?"

"My practice is closed for the holidays. I would have woken you, but I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"Doesn't matter. House shut down too," Thirteen mumbled. "It's just as well. I really don't want to see anyone today."

"Should I leave you alone then?"

"You're not anyone. You're the person I love."

"I'm also the person you broke up with the other day."

"I didn't. At least I didn't mean to. I was angry and I said something stupid. I didn't mean it."

"I know," Rachel sighed. "When did we start fighting like that?"

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you. You were just looking out for me."

"It's not your fault."

"It is," Thirteen insisted. "I thought I was doing something that mattered, and I felt like you were standing in the way of that. I'm sorry I freaked out on you."

"But I get it. I was standing in your way. I was being controlling."

"You weren't."

"Yeah, I was," Rachel muttered. "Last night wasn't the first time I thought about how much time you have left. It's in the back of mind all the time. I worry about you so much. Whenever I think about you doing something that's the slightest bit dangerous, I go to this freaked out, overprotective place. I want to put you in a protective bubble or something."

"A bubble could be fun. I could go zorbing," Thirteen said. She cracked a smile as Rachel let out a small laugh. "I love that you care enough about me to be overprotective. I'll try to give you less cause for it."

Rachel smiled and pushed the tray towards Thirteen, "I brought you a peace offering."

Thirteen sat up and removed the cover that sat in the center of the tray. "Blueberry waffles?"

"If it helps your appetite, I could start eating them first." Rachel smiled as Thirteen laughed a bit. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind Thirteen's ear and kissed her temple. "Eat up before they get cold. I'll grab you some coffee."

As Rachel headed for the kitchen, Thirteen pulled herself out of bed and grabbed her purse. She searched through it quickly before finding what she needed. When Rachel returned with a mug full of coffee, Thirteen pulled something out and handed it to her.

"Here," she said, offering a small paper bag.

"What's this?"

"Last night, before all the stuff with our patient, I picked up my own peace offering."

Rachel reached into the bag and pulled out a small package. "Sunflower seeds?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow and a slight smile.

"It was too late to get to the florist's, so I grabbed these in the cafeteria."

"You are very cute," Rachel said. She kissed Thirteen appreciatively before they both returned to bed.

Thirteen dug into the waffles hungrily. "You're not eating?" she asked through a mouthful.

Rachel shook her head, "No, these are just for you. I ate hours ago."

"Hours?" Thirteen looked past Rachel to the clock on the nightstand, "Oh my god, it's almost one o'clock?"

"Yeah, you were knocked out good."

"I don't think I've slept that late since med school."

"Well," Rachel said. "It seems to have brightened your disposition. You're not nearly as–well, last night you were–"

"Morose, distraught, and a little out of my mind?"

"What? No. I would never say that," Rachel said playfully.

"But you were thinking it, weren't you?" Thirteen pushed.

"I wouldn't even think it…while you were in the room. Look, this isn't about me thinking you're completely mental," Rachel joked. "I just want to make sure you're okay. You seemed really low last night."

"I'll be fine. Some time away from work and close to you should fix me right up."

"Does that mean you'll be spending Christmas with me?"

"Mmm, I'd rather just drink some eggnog together and sleep in until New Year's," Thirteen groaned.

"Well, bah humbug."

Thirteen shrugged, "I probably should celebrate a little. This is the first time I've actually had anyone to spend the holidays with."

"Me too. You see, we have to celebrate. Otherwise, we–" Rachel was promptly silenced by Thirteen shoving a forkful of waffles into her mouth.

"Shut up and think about this for half a second," Thirteen said. "Every time we try to celebrate something, it gets completely screwed up."

Rachel rolled her eyes and swallowed her mouthful, "Mini Thanksgiving went pretty well."

"Yeah, but only after I crashed into my couch. I had a bruise the size of my fist."

"Well, that was your own damn fault. Who doesn't turn on the lights when they come home?" Rachel asked. "We'll keep it simple. It'll be great."

Thirteen sighed, "Always the optimist."

"Always the pragmatist."

"Fine. What's simple?"

"Dinner, eggnog, a tree, and gifts," Rachel offered.

"No tree, that's too much."

"It's not Christmas without a tree. It'll be just like any other day."

"That's kind of where I'm hoping to go with the whole simplicity thing," Thirteen said. "It can still be special without a tree."

Rachel sighed, "Fine, but if there's no tree, we have to have lights."

"Are you trying to bargain with me?"

"You're either bargaining or you're demanding."

"Okay," Thirteen considered. "How about lights, gifts, takeout, and drinks."

"I think I can live with that," Rachel said. "Shall we shake on it?"

"The fate of Christmas is at stake. A handshake won't do," Thirteen said drolly. "No, I think this sort of deal should be sealed with a kiss." She leaned into Rachel and kissed her passionately. Thirteen skimmed her hands under Rachel's shirt making her gasp as she brushed a whole chain of sensitive spots.

Rachel pulled Thirteen to her lips and returned the same ardor, "Seals are much more official."

* * *

Rachel woke to the sounds of clanking cookware and Thirteen swearing. She pulled herself out of bed and headed towards the offending noises. In the kitchen, Thirteen tumbled through Rachel's cabinets searching for the tools she needed. Rachel yawned and stretched before leaning against the counter tiredly.

"It is way too early for you to be making so much noise," Rachel mumbled.

Startled by Rachel's voice, Thirteen turned around sharply, "Sorry. Your kitchen is kind of weird."

"You're kind of weird, my kitchen is fine. What are looking for?"

"A whisk."

"Here's a hint," Rachel said, walking to the dishwasher and opening it. "I don't keep it in the cabinets."

Thirteen blushed as she grabbed the whisk. "Looks like all my noisemaking has made you cranky," she said.

Rachel promptly shook her head, "No, it's just that for a girl who sleeps past noon, you're really bad at relaxing. It's so fucking early."

"Okay, you're definitely cranky," Thirteen quipped. She poked playfully at Rachel's ticklish sides, causing her to jerk fitfully as she tried to avoid Thirteen's torments. "It's nine o'clock. You're usually up at five."

"Not during vacation time. I shouldn't be out of bed for another hour."

"Poor baby," Thirteen said mockingly. She kissed Rachel quickly, "Go back to bed and I will bring something delicious to cheer you up."

Rachel shrugged, "I'm already up. Besides, now I get to spend an extra hour with you."

Thirteen smiled as Rachel met her with a lingering kiss. "You always know just what to say. If we weren't so in love, I'd think you were just trying to get into my pants."

"I love you with or without pants. Although without is definitely preferred," Rachel said, smirking. "I'll go get washed up."

Rachel showered and dressed quickly before sitting down to breakfast with Thirteen. They ate at a leisurely, unhurried clip, letting the meal set the pace of their day. When they had finished, the couple headed out to make the most of their vacation.

The two of them made their way to the shopping centers, boldly facing the crazed holiday shoppers. Rachel looked around with a strange determination as Thirteen browsed the shops with disinterest. She began to kick up a fuss in indifference, huffing and sighing, making it more and more difficult for Rachel to ignore her. As the incessant complaining wore on, Rachel used the last of her patience to suggest that Thirteen find something more interesting to keep her busy. With feigned reluctance, Thirteen agreed. She left the shop quickly, attempting to hide the scheming grin spreading across her face. She hurried the few blocks to a small boutique she had visited days before.

The small bell on the door chimed as Thirteen entered, bringing the shopkeeper from the back room. "Can I help you, miss?" the older man asked.

"I need to pick up an order," Thirteen answered.

"I remember you. The name's Hadley, isn't it?" The man returned to the back room for a moment and reappeared with a small box. "Your order turned out very well. You brought in such a beautiful specimen."

"Thanks, it took forever to find." Thirteen peered into the box as the shopkeeper presented it for her inspection. Inside sat a dahlia bloom that had been preserved in resin. Its outstretched petals were a deep, vibrant red, while the ones surrounding its still-closed center were a velvety burgundy. The petals closest to the center of the flower rolled together like a nest of tiny tulips. As the petals radiated outward, their pointed tips shot out dramatically like cascading fireworks.

Thirteen removed the bloom from the box and held it carefully. The resin made the petals feel smooth, hard, and glossy, but the flower still looked as if it had just been picked. A pleased smile stretched across her face as she gently returned it to the box. "It looks perfect," she said.

"Glad you're happy with it," the shopkeeper said. He gave her his own pleased smile as he rung up her order. "May I ask what you plan to do with it?"

"It's a memento for a friend of mine. I'm going to mount and frame it for her." Thirteen paid for the flower and tucked it safely away in her purse. "Happy holidays," she told the shopkeeper as he returned the sentiment.

Thirteen was pleased with herself as she left the shop. A broad smile overcame her, but she tried to keep it in check so as not overplay her hand. When she met up with Rachel again, she found her looking agitated. Rachel paced back and forth next to her car with her arms crossed tightly.

"Are you okay?" Thirteen asked.

"Yeah. I'm just sick of all this," Rachel mumbled. "This time of year, I hate any place with a register."

"So, why'd you want to go shopping?"

Rachel shrugged, "Don't know. Dumb idea, I guess. Are you ready to go?"

Thirteen nodded as she narrowed her eyes at Rachel, trying to determine the cause of her sudden change in attitude. She barely got a chance to settle into the car before Rachel sped off hastily.

* * *

As they approached Rachel's apartment, she became increasingly detached. Thirteen had long since given up on conversation and rode in silence as Rachel drove. Rachel slowed to a stop for a traffic light and slumped over the steering wheel for a moment. When she straightened up something caught her eye. She stared across the street with an intent frown while Thirteen tried to figure out what she had fixated on. As she followed Rachel's gaze to a Christmas tree lot, a twist of guilt churned in her stomach.

"Rachel? The light's green," Thirteen urged softly. Rachel nodded slightly and continued on.

When they returned home, Thirteen watched Rachel closely. She quietly set herself to decorating the apartment, pulling out multiple sets of lights before she began testing and sorting them. Thirteen lent a cautious hand and without talking, they untangled the lights and hung them over the windows. As she returned the boxes to the closet, Thirteen came across a clear plastic container. She peered through the box to glimpse its contents, but couldn't see past the packing materials.

"What's in this one?" she asked.

"Just some more decorations," Rachel grumbled. "I'm going to go lie down. I'm getting a headache."

Thirteen followed Rachel to the bedroom hesitantly. She was sullenly curled in a ball and burrowed beneath a blanket. Thirteen thought back to when she lay in that position and of how much comfort Rachel had been.

"Want to talk about it?" she ventured.

"About what?"

"Whatever has you so down. I thought we weren't having a Blue Christmas this year."

"What would the holidays be without the blues?" Rachel mumbled. "I really don't feel like talking."

Thirteen walked to the bed and sat by Rachel's side, "It might make you feel better. Besides, after the past few days, it's my turn to comfort you."

"What was Christmas like with your mom?"

Thirteen hesitated for a moment. At first, she didn't have an answer, but when she did, it wasn't one she liked. "I don't remember."

"Not at all?"

"Not clearly. Her illness hit its advanced stages when I was still pretty young. Mostly things were just stressful," Thirteen said quietly. "But, there was this one Christmas that she and I opened gifts together really early, just the two of us. I must've been about six. My dad says I woke up before sunrise, busted into their room and started jumping on the bed. My mom took me downstairs, we opened gifts, had breakfast, and fell asleep on the couch."

Rachel smiled weakly, "Sounds like a good memory of her."

"It is," Thirteen said, smiling distantly at her thoughts. "What about you? You must have some good memories to share."

Rachel frowned a bit as tears began to well in her eyes. "She baked cookies," she murmured. "She'd bake dozens of cookies and Evan and I would take them to our friends and neighbors. Then she'd find the perfect tree and decorate it so beautifully. I think I miss her most this time of year."

"I know what you mean," Thirteen sighed. She lay down next to Rachel and pulled her close. Rachel buried her face in Thirteen's shoulder and shut her eyes tightly. After a while she finally let out a heavy breath and relaxed.

* * *

It didn't take long for Rachel to drift off to sleep. When her breathing became deep and rhythmic, Thirteen carefully slipped away from her and left the apartment quietly. She got into her car and drove hastily to the intersection that had distracted Rachel earlier that day.

When Thirteen stepped onto the tree lot it was swarming with people. She watched them for a few moments. They all made their selections quickly and moved on, taking their bushy treasures eagerly home. They all seemed to know what they were doing while Thirteen hung about by the entrance. After looking lost for a few minutes, she was finally approached by one of the lot attendants.

"You need some help, miss?" he asked.

Thirteen nodded eagerly, "I need a tree."

"Well, you're in the right place," the attendant half-chuckled. "Why don't you take a few minutes to look around and let me know when you find something you like."

"You don't understand. I'm trying to cheer someone up. I need a tree that's beautiful and perfect and I've never picked out a tree in my life. I have no idea what I'm doing."

The man laughed under his breath and nodded in understanding. "Just take a breath and relax. This is pretty simple. We just got some fresh trees in this morning. Come with me." The attendant led Thirteen to the back of the lot where the newest trees waited. "We've got Douglas' and a couple of Balsams. They're both nice, but if you're going for perfect, the Balsams will give you that nice, piney scent."

Thirteen looked the trees over. They were full and bushy, and the ones the attendant recommended smelled as good as promised. "Sounds good," Thirteen said. She stood back as the attendant chose an appropriately sized tree for her and tied it to her car.

After making another quick stop, Thirteen found herself with a bag full of small parcels. She headed to her car and rushed back to Rachel's apartment to prepare her surprise. It wasn't until she tried to remove the tree from the roof of her car that Thirteen realized what she had gotten herself into. She slung the bag of parcels over her shoulder while she tried to wrestle the tree into the building. Her efforts were less than successful until one of Rachel's neighbors offered a hand. He took one end of the tree and helped Thirteen into the elevator and up to Rachel's door.

After thanking the neighbor graciously, Thirteen snuck into the apartment as quietly as she could. Rachel was still sound asleep, but Thirteen used her time wisely all the same. She quickly set the tree into its stand and settled it into a free corner of the living room. She returned to the closet and pulled out the box Rachel had pushed aside.

Inside, there were dozens of ornaments. They were made of delicate crystal, and each was carefully nestled in protective packing. Some were shaped like icicles, some like snowflakes, and some like latticed hearts. There were even globes decorated with ivory and gold ribbons. The star was the most glorious of them all; it was crystal like the rest, but encased within it was a golden star. Thirteen held it up to the light and the inner star glowed brightly.

She took the fragile ornaments and placed them throughout the tree with care. When her inner perfectionist was satisfied, she opened the parcels she had bought to reveal dozens of freshly baked cookies. She spread them over a platter and returned to the bedroom.

Rachel was still lying in the same spot Thirteen had left her in. Thirteen sat down beside her and brushed the hair away from her face. "Rachel?" she called softly, stroking her back. When Thirteen didn't receive a response she placed kisses along Rachel's temple and cheek. "Wake up, Rachel."

"I'm awake," she murmured, her eyes still closed.

"Can you come into the other room with me?"

Rachel turned to face Thirteen with sad eyes, "I really just want to mope for a while, Rem."

"I have a surprise for you," Thirteen said, pushing on. "If I've done my job right, you won't feel nearly as mopey in a few minutes. If you don't feel better, I'll lie down and mope with you."

Thirteen rose from the bed and took Rachel by the hand. As she pulled herself up, Rachel let Thirteen cover her eyes and guide her into the living room. When they stood in front of the tree Thirteen removed her hands and stepped aside. Rachel's eyes lit up when she saw it. A slow smile crept across her face as she walked over to it. She ran her fingers over one of the globes gently and turned to Thirteen. "You got me a tree," she said softly.

Thirteen smiled and grabbed a cookie from the platter. "I also got you these. I figured giving you cookies I actually baked would only make you more depressed."

Rachel laughed and pulled Thirteen into her arms, "Thank you. Everything looks beautiful."

"I'm sorry for being so anti-holiday before," Thirteen said. "I wish you'd told me how much all of this meant to you."

Rachel shrugged, "I didn't realize it did. But I'm so glad you understood. All of this is wonderful." She smiled and ran her fingers over a few more ornaments, "This is weird, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that you knew what I needed and you did it. It's kind of weird."

"Weird?" Thirteen asked, raising an eyebrow. "Me being thoughtful and considerate is weird?"

"No, no, no, no, no. This is sweet. Very, very sweet," Rachel blurted as she tried to work her way out of trouble. "I just meant that the idea of you knowing how I feel before I can even understand it is odd. Sweet, but odd."

Thirteen rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Just shut up and have a cookie."

Rachel took the cookie Thirteen still held and munched on it sheepishly. "What about you, Remy?" she asked after a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"You won't miss being with your family for Christmas?"

Thirteen shook her head, "I haven't spent Christmas with them in a while. I'm usually working anyway. My dad just sends me a gift, then we have a catch up phone call Christmas day."

"What'd he send you this year?" Rachel asked.

"A new watch for my collection."

Rachel smirked, "What is it with you and watches? And suspenders?"

"I like what I like, okay? Have another cookie before you put your foot in your mouth again," Thirteen teased.

Rachel dutifully grabbed another cookie and headed to the couch. A thoughtful look came over her as Thirteen trailed behind her.

"Are holiday treats and decorations only good for a few minutes of happiness?"

"Do you…" Rachel started. "Do you think we could ever go just one week without one of us having some emotional breakdown or crisis?"

Thirteen sat down beside Rachel and looked at her squarely. "No," she said.

"At least you're honest."

"Well, I may be exaggerating just a little. We could probably make it two weeks," Thirteen said dryly. "That's not us. Drama follows us like a shadow. Maybe someday we can go a whole month, but until then at least we're together."

Rachel nodded, "Things are definitely better with you around."

Thirteen smiled as she curled up at Rachel's side and nuzzled against her. "I keep hoping that one day things will get easier and we can just be, but I don't think that's going to happen."

"We've been knocked around by life and have the bruises to show for it," Rachel sighed. "But, that doesn't mean we stop trying."

"Of course not. What I'm saying is that even when things are hard I know I can handle it as long as I have you."

"You do know how to make a girl feel special," Rachel smiled. She leaned over and kissed Thirteen softly. "We're really good together, Remy."

"Mmhmm," Thirteen nodded. "And if we work really hard, maybe we can overcome our natural tendencies to screw things up."

Rachel laughed and pulled Thirteen closer. "We've come this far," she said. "What's a little thing like nature going to do to us?"

* * *

Christmas Day came quickly for Thirteen and Rachel. It was late when they began to stir. Rachel woke first, stretching stiffly under Thirteen's grasp. As she glanced to the window a fresh snow was falling. The sight of it filled Rachel with a childlike excitement and made her leap to her feet. She shook Thirteen, who held her tongue as Rachel eagerly pulled her out of bed. She didn't speak until Rachel stood her in front of the window.

"Why are you so excited?"

"It's snowing."

"I see that," she mumbled.

"It's snowing! How can you not be excited? Everything's clean and beautiful."

Thirteen could only shrug tiredly, making Rachel roll her eyes and return to the window. Though she wasn't very enamored with the snow, the look of delight on Rachel's face made Thirteen smile. She placed a quick peck on Rachel's cheek and pulled her close. "Okay, snow's pretty. I'm just going to be quiet and let you enjoy this."

The two of them stood by the window for another few minutes until Rachel pulled away from Thirteen, leaving her with a thankful kiss.

In return for her silence, Rachel graciously filled Thirteen with coffee and made breakfast. When they were finished they went to the tree, pulling out the only two gifts under it.

Thirteen handed Rachel her present, insisting that she go first. She chewed her lip nervously as Rachel began to open the gift. Once she peeled through the wrapping paper and opened the box, Rachel found the dahlia gracefully set in a black shadow box. A broad smile spread across her face as she pulled it free. "This is just like–"

"The flowers you brought me the first day we were together. Do you like it?"

"I love it," Rachel said. She kissed Thirteen quickly before handing her a box of her own. "Your turn."

Thirteen tore through the paper quickly to get to her present. Inside a small velvet box she found a beautiful pocket watch. It shone brightly in white gold, while elegant, leafy scrolls wound across it in yellow gold. She opened the case to reveal an even more elegant inside. The hands of the watch moved gracefully across the face and in the center Thirteen could peer through to the inner gears. On the back there was a viewing window through which she could see the watch's gold movement ticking away. For a moment she was speechless. She could only run her fingers over the watch and the long chain attached to it. "This is amazing," she said finally.

"It was my mom's," Rachel said quietly. She chuckled softly as a memory struck her. "She had it made. She had gone off on this wild tangent about how pocket watches needed to come back into popularity and that women should wear them."

"You don't wear it?"

Rachel shook her head quickly, "It's too weird. I only take it out to wind it. But it was her favorite. It should be worn. And I'd like you to wear it."

"I'd be happy to," Thirteen said. She slipped the watch around her neck and fastened the chain before hugging Rachel tightly. "You and your damn romantic gestures," she laughed.

Rachel laughed as well, "Making you look bad again?"

"Yes, you always beat me when it comes to romance."

Rachel shook her head, "You're much better than you think you are."

"Am I?"

"Yes. You're lovely and romantic in your way," Rachel said, pushing Thirteen's hair behind her ear. "You make me feel happy and loved. And sane, we both know how important that is."

"It's so elusive," Thirteen chuckled.

"It is," Rachel laughed again. She grabbed Thirteen's hands and quickly laced their fingers together. "We make each other happy. And I think that's incredibly romantic."

* * *

Rachel's living room glowed with the light of a dozen candles. Their shadows stretched to the kitchen and back as a warm orange light cascaded throughout the apartment. The muted murmurs of a cheering crowd could be heard from the television. It grew louder as the crowd began to count down to the ball drop. "Ten, nine, eight…" they chanted. Throughout the building, and even outside, people were yelling, clapping, and making all manner of noise. Thirteen and Rachel were oblivious.

Somehow they had ended up on the floor, which now seemed miles away from what was going on around them. They writhed together in each other's arms, panting rhythmically. Rachel arched her back against the floor as Thirteen's fingers dove into her over and over again. With her own fingers deep inside Thirteen, Rachel matched the pace stroke for stroke.

Thirteen kissed and licked her way down Rachel's neck before nipping sharply at her collarbone. Rachel yelped slightly and captured Thirteen's lips. They both began to tremble. Thirteen rocked her body into Rachel's a few moments longer until they both cried out in unison. She collapsed on top of Rachel, laying her head on her chest. She listened to the sound of Rachel's heaving heartbeat for a long while. When it began to slow, she sat up and looked down at Rachel. It was all Rachel could do to shoot her a satisfied smile.

Thirteen pulled a blanket from the couch as the cool air began to settle on her sweat-slicked skin. Rachel still lay motionless next to her. They watched each other with a soft, wordless gaze until Thirteen broke the silence.

"Did you hear fireworks?"

"Definitely," Rachel said breathily.

Thirteen chuckled softly. "I meant outside," she said.

Rachel finally pulled herself up. Thirteen wrapped the blanket around them both as she slid into her arms. "I have no idea what's going on beyond your body," Rachel said. "What time is it?"

Thirteen glanced to the television, "A bit after midnight."

"What a way to ring in the new year," Rachel said, pulling Thirteen into a long kiss. She grabbed her underwear from the coffee table and slipped them on before heading to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Thirteen asked.

"I'm getting the champagne so we can toast."

"That could be a problem," Thirteen called. After a moment of searching for her own undergarments, she joined Rachel. "I may have stuck it in the freezer before we started…celebrating."

"The freezer?"

"I wanted it to chill quickly. I didn't know we'd get so sidetracked."

Rachel took the bottle from the freezer and looked at it closely. It was still mostly liquid, but a few slushy clumps floated about. "It seems okay," Rachel said. She held the bottle over the sink and opened it carefully. The cork released with a dull pop as Thirteen exchanged a befuddled look with Rachel. They had expected the champagne to bubble to the top as usual, but nothing happened. Just as Rachel reached for the glasses, the liquid rushed forth from the bottle in a turbulent, icy flow.

"Hurry, get the glasses!" Thirteen yelled. She sipped some of the runoff from the bottle, giggling as the bubbles tickled her nose.

Rachel quickly filled the glasses as the gushing began to subside. She gently clinked her glass to Thirteen's as she proposed a toast. "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year," Thirteen replied. She wrinkled her nose a bit as the beverage hit her tongue. "It's like a slushie."

Rachel nodded, "Starting the year with sex and a champagne slushie. This should be an interesting one."

"Any resolutions?"

"I never make resolutions. I just think about what I want from the year."

"And what's that?" Thirteen asked.

"I'd like to actually have a life outside of work. I really want to take a trip together," Rachel said. "And you? What does this year hold for Remy Hadley?"

Thirteen smiled and shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know. I guess I just want to be happy more often than not."

Rachel nodded, "What about the future? Next year, five years from now, further out?"

"Next year I want to do this again. With you," Thirteen smiled. "In five years I think I'd like to be married, starting a family. Beyond that I just want to be healthy and…here."

Rachel's brows knotted together. Thirteen's comment was simply an acknowledgement of the reality of their situation. It hadn't ruined the moment, but there would always be some sadness in it. She gave Thirteen a brief kiss and clinked their glasses together again. "To the future. Whatever it may hold."


	19. Chapter 19

It's my Storyversary! I've been working on LTC for a year now. Huge thanks to everyone who's added, favorited, and stuck with this story all this time. Especially during this last stretch. To celebrate I've got a double chapter for you guys. Twice the R&R action! Enjoy!

* * *

Rachel stretched and gave a loud, groaning yawn as the rising sun peeked through the blinds. She glanced tiredly at the clock on the nightstand and confirmed that it was entirely too early to be getting up. She rolled over and watched Thirteen for a moment. She looked so peaceful. Her chest rose and fell slowly and her lips held the faintest hint of a smile. Rachel kissed her shell pink eyelids as a small apology for what she was about to do.

"Remy?" she called softly as she shook Thirteen. When her efforts received no more than an unconscious frown, Rachel shook harder. "Please wake up," she said into Thirteen's ear. "I want to have breakfast with you."

"Go away," Thirteen groaned sleepily. She quickly rolled onto her stomach and folded her arms over her head.

"I am going away soon. That's why I want you to come have breakfast with me."

Thirteen peeked at Rachel cautiously, "What time is it?"

"Five," Rachel said as she softly kissed the bare skin of Thirteen's shoulders.

"Just stay in bed with me a while longer."

"I can't. I have to be on the road soon." Rachel lifted the sheet and admired Thirteen in all her glory, "Although I must say, I am loving that ass."

Thirteen chuckled softly as Rachel's hands began to roam, "If that's what you wanted you should have waited a few more hours. But I guess since you're leaving for the weekend and you won't be getting any, the least I could do is have breakfast with you."

The pair finally pulled themselves out of bed and fell into their normal routine. They quickly showered and dressed before helping each other prepare breakfast.

This had become their usual practice. Over the last few months, more often than not, Thirteen and Rachel would spend the night together before sharing breakfast and a ride to work. Neither of them could even remember the last time they had slept alone.

"Remind me again why you're going to this convention," Thirteen said, slowly sipping a cup of coffee.

"To learn," Rachel answered.

Thirteen rolled her eyes, "Can't you read the convention reports or buy a book like everyone else?"

"I realize these things are generally boring, but I have to go. There's a workshop on some new therapy techniques and Cuddy wants me to be up on them. Besides, I get three paid days off from work."

"Yeah, three days off in New Haven. How exciting."

"Then someone should make my homecoming extra exciting."

Thirteen smirked as she rose from the table. She gathered Rachel's things and placed them by the door. Rachel followed soon after and wrapped her arms around Thirteen. "I'll be back Sunday afternoon."

Thirteen nodded and kissed her, "See you then."

* * *

Rachel drove along the Turnpike, slowly making her way towards her destination. It was still early and the roads were mostly empty, causing the landscape to pass her by in a gray blur. Even though she was fighting it, the haze of her surroundings was beginning to lull her into drowsiness. After nearly an hour, she exited the Turnpike and turned onto the Verrazano Bridge. It came more than thirty exits too soon to take her to Connecticut.

She quickly found herself parked outside of Evan's building. She went in through the side entrance, bypassing the storefront, and took the elevator to his apartment. As soon as the elevator opened, Rachel could hear the squealing of a belt grinder confirming Evan was already up and hard at work. She put her things away and helped herself to coffee while she waited to see her brother.

By the time Evan walked into the kitchen, Rachel was face down on the counter and dozing lightly. At the slightest creak of floorboards, her head shot up.

"Good morning," Evan greeted.

"Morning."

"What are you doing here so early? You said the convention started at eight."

"It does, but I needed some coffee before I got back on the road."

"Where does Remy think you're going?" Evan asked.

"To a physio convention in Connecticut."

"And where are you actually going?"

"To the Huntington's Disease Society of America convention in White Plains."

Evan shook his head, "Why lie?"

"Things have been going really well lately," Rachel started. "Remy doesn't like to talk about her disease, and unless I find out anything useful research-wise, she doesn't need to."

"What are you hoping to find?"

"I don't know. Just…something," Rachel shrugged. "I should get going. I'll see you tonight."

The convention hall was just beginning to fill as Rachel arrived. As she checked in, she pulled a rumpled itinerary from her pocket and looked over the events she had marked. The first speakers began to take the stage and she hurried to her seat.

She sat stiffly in her chair and fidgeted impatiently as she waited for the opening ceremonies and perfunctory speeches to end. Her anxious anticipation continued for most of the morning. Even when they broke for lunch she couldn't relax. It wasn't until the afternoon workshops began that Rachel was able to put her mind at ease.

This was what she had come for. Not only would she finally hear something interesting, but with any luck she could find the answers to her questions. With her mind distracted she set herself to scribbling pages of detailed notes.

Between workshops Rachel snuck outside. She planned to completely avoid the convention's more emotional offerings. She told herself she was being childish, the idea of meditation time and prayer circles shouldn't have bothered her so much. It was one thing to sit through the workshops –so far much of it was information she already knew–but the teary-eyed discussions wouldn't be as easy. She could handle hearing about the physical and technical aspects of what might happen with Thirteen, but the emotional side of things threatened to overwhelm her.

At the end of the day Rachel returned to Evan's. Disappointment weighed heavy on her shoulders though she still wasn't sure what she had been looking for.

Evan made dinner and the two of them sat down together. As she picked over her food, Rachel could feel Evan watching her thoughtfully.

"Any interesting workshops today?" he finally asked.

"They all had some decent insights, I guess. I went to Cognitive Issues, Psychiatric Issues, and Managing Challenging Behaviors for Caregivers."

"Why do you sound so bored with it all?"

Rachel shook her head, "I don't know. I don't know what I expected to get out of this. Tomorrow there are workshops on medications and new therapies, maybe I'll find what I'm looking for there."

"But you don't know what you're looking for."

Rachel sighed and pushed herself from the table, "Goodnight."

The next afternoon, Rachel found herself slipping outside again. As she passed the main conference room, many of the convention guests were standing in a circle, hands joined, singing hopeful songs. Her face twisted into a grimace and she felt strangely nauseated by the display. She hurried towards the nearest exit and made her escape.

Outside, Rachel pressed herself against the building. She took a deep breath before suddenly realizing she wasn't alone. Across from her a suit-clad man took his last puffs from a cigarette.

"Do you smoke?" he asked, pushing the pack towards her.

Rachel shook her head, "No, gin is usually my vice of choice in crappy situations."

"Sounds like you're hiding from the Circle of Hope," the man chuckled. "I'm Michael Hammond."

"Rachel Galvin. How'd you know I was avoiding the Circle?"

"That's what I always do. I can't stand the sappy stuff."

"I feel like such an asshole," Rachel admitted. "I can't believe I'm disgusted with a bunch of people over some songs and prayers."

"It's not the kind of hope you want to believe in."

"What?"

"Hope is the idea that something can still be done. You're not going to accomplish much by holding hands and singing, so if that's what hope looks like, it's a bit unsettling. At least that's how I feel about it," Michael said. "Do you have Huntington's?"

"No, I'm a doctor. I'm here for my patients."

"Likewise."

"I thought I would get more out of this," Rachel sighed. "Even the New Therapies session was disappointing. There has to be something. Stem cells, gene silencing, intrabodies. There have got to be some successful neuroprotective or regenerative therapies."

"Sounds like you have a personal interest in Huntington's treatments."

"One of my patients–former patient–is also my girlfriend."

"So you came here looking for hope?"

"I guess," Rachel sighed. "We just spent our first New Year's together. We started talking about the future and there are all these things she wants. If this thing gets a hold of her none of it can happen."

Michael nodded sympathetically, "Listen, I work at the University of Massachusetts Medical doing drug research. There are some things coming down the pipeline in the next year or so. They're not exactly silver bullets, but they're promising. Send me an email and I'll keep you updated." He reached into his breast pocket and handed Rachel his card.

"Thanks," she said. "It's been great talking to you, but I'd better get going before I really bring down the Circle of Hope."

That night, Rachel slowly packed her bags and prepared to leave the next day. While she folded her clothes and put them away, Evan walked in and sat at the edge of the bed.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

Rachel shrugged, "The tiniest glimmer at best."

"Did you figure out what you were looking for?"

"Hope apparently." Rachel stopped for a moment and looked at her brother, "We've both lost enough. We should be able to just be happy together. I can't lose her."

Evan took Rachel's hand and pulled her onto the bed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I wish there was something I could say to make this better. Right now, I think you just need to go home and be with her."

"Yeah. I think I'll feel better when I see her." Rachel wrapped her arms around Evan and held on tightly for a long while.

* * *

Rachel sped under a canopy of leaves. They were a brilliant green, glowing so brightly it seemed as if their trees were drawing electricity from the sun. She slowed as she passed under them, getting a better look, then picked up speed again as she left them behind. Her hair whipped wildly in the warm wind as it flew through the open windows of her car.

Days like this usually made Rachel wish she didn't have to drive everywhere, but this time she couldn't have cared less. The warm air was just that much harder to get into her lungs, the sun shining on her skin was the only thing keeping her body from descending into the shivers, and the leaves looked dull. With all their green they seemed to be mocking her. When autumn came they would float on from their roots, flailing to the ground. But she would still be there. Alone.

As she finally slowed her car to a stop, Rachel found herself at a huge marketplace. There were vendors selling everything from flowers to crafts. The atmosphere revived her a bit, but in all the commotion it would take her a while to find who she was looking for.

Rachel ambled about for a while, perusing what the market had to offer. After a few minutes, she spotted her. She caught her eyes first; even from the distance Rachel could see their teal sparkle clearly. Her heart was a drummer as a shy smile crept across her face. The passersby seemed to slow to a crawl for a few moments before she snapped out of her daze. She plucked a bright red daisy from a nearby pot and quickly paid the vendor. As she urged her feet to move in the right direction, an exhilarating feeling came over her. Her blood was fire, her muscles steel; she felt like she could do anything. She always loved how seeing Thirteen made her feel.

She walked to Thirteen quickly, sneaking up on her from behind. When she was close enough she laced her fingers between Thirteen's. When Thirteen jumped and shot her a shocked look, Rachel pushed the daisy towards her. "For you," she said.

Thirteen smiled as she took the flower, "I didn't think you'd make it. I figured you'd be tired from the drive."

"I couldn't miss spending time with my Remy."

"Your Remy? I'm just yours now?"

Rachel shrugged cockily, "Always have been."

"Does that make you my Rachel?"

"If you'll have me."

"Come on," Thirteen said, tugging Rachel's hand.

Rachel peeked into the canvas tote slung over Thirteen's shoulder. "Looks like you're almost done here."

"I am, but you can give me a ride home."

"You took the train?"

Thirteen nodded, "I wanted to take a nice drive with my Rachel."

Rachel smiled warmly as they headed to the car. They drove to Thirteen's apartment quietly. Thirteen enjoyed the beautiful day while Rachel soaked up her presence.

When they returned home, Thirteen gathered the items she had bought and began making dinner. Rachel settled in and made herself comfortable at the table where she could watch Thirteen cook.

"Are you okay?" Thirteen asked. "You seem upset."

"Just tired," Rachel fibbed. "The conference was long and boring."

Thirteen smirked and straddled Rachel in her chair. "Sounds like you need a little excitement."

"You're all I need. I missed you." Rachel pulled Thirteen close and kissed her, "I love you."

Thirteen wondered briefly about Rachel's somber attitude, but smiled at her flattery. "I love you, too," she said with a kiss.

* * *

Thirteen lounged in the sunshine. She sat with her legs outstretched and her arms behind her. Rachel was curled catlike against her, basking in the warmth.

They sat together in one of the secluded areas of the Princeton campus. They were spread out on a blanket with the remnants of a picnic strewn around them. Thirteen toyed with a bouquet of yellow daisies, weaving their stems together.

"What's with you lately?" she asked Rachel. "You've been so quiet and tense."

"I've just had a lot on my mind."

"Such as?"

"Such as why you're destroying the flowers I had to go to three florists to find."

Thirteen laughed softly and draped her finished project over Rachel's head. "Not destroying, repurposing."

Rachel looked over the daisy chain with a smirk, "You are such a closet hippie."

"Shut up," Thirteen quipped. "My mom showed me how to make these. It's one of the reasons I love daisies."

Rachel sat up and kissed Thirteen, "She taught you well. Thank you."

"So, what's been on your mind?"

"Have you thought about enrolling in another drug trial?"

"No," Thirteen said quickly.

"There are some new treatments in development–"

"What I meant was I decided not to."

"You don't even want to consider it? I mean, if there's a chance that something could help, wouldn't it be worth it?"

"So I do trial after trial until I find something that works for me? I don't want to spend the rest of my life as a guinea pig."

"That's not what I'm saying."

Thirteen sighed, "Rachel, I've been through that already. It filled me up with false hope and in the end I got nothing. It isn't worth it."

"I just want you to be around a while." Rachel shrugged, "I'm sorry I brought it up."

"That's why you've been so quiet? You didn't want to upset me?"

"I know you don't like to talk about this stuff. Outside of therapy we never do."

"Because I don't like to focus on it."

"And I'm trying to respect that. I just–I think about it."

"I'm sorry," Thirteen said. "I didn't mean to make you feel like you couldn't talk to me."

"It's fine," Rachel muttered. She stood quickly and started gathering things together. "I should get going. I've got a patient coming in."

"Okay." Thirteen moved aside to let Rachel finish. She looked on regretfully as their picnic was packed away.

The pair walked quickly to the parking lot where Rachel loaded the car in silence. As Thirteen slipped into the passenger seat to wait, her phone rang.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Remy, it's Dad," her father replied. "How are you?"

"I'm good. How's it going?"

"Pretty good. Listen, I'm in town and I was hoping you had time for your old man."

Thirteen laughed to herself, "Sure, Dad. How about dinner tonight?"

"That'd be great. Why don't I stop by your apartment at seven?"

"Sounds good. I'll see you then."

Rachel slipped into the car as Thirteen ended her conversation. "Hot date?" she asked.

"My dad's in town. We're having dinner." Thirteen hesitated before she continued, "I kind of wish you could come."

"You'd have to tell him who I am. You'd have to tell him you're bisexual," Rachel said. She glanced over at Thirteen's nerve-wracked face, "It's okay. I'll meet him another time. When you're ready."

Thirteen nodded vaguely. Rachel seemed understanding, but she was sure this would be another addition to the list of qualms she kept to herself.

As she and Rachel walked back into the hospital, Thirteen could feel the distance between them growing. They headed for the elevator and boarded silently.

"You okay?" Thirteen asked.

"I'm fine," Rachel said shortly.

"No one ever really means that. People are never just fine."

"I'm good, Rem," Rachel said as the doors opened. "I'll see you tonight." Rachel stepped off the elevator and walked to her office. She swung open the door and flipped on the lights before sitting her things on her desk. As she headed for her chair, it swiveled around, making her jump out of her skin. She recovered quickly and glared at her intruder. "I'm pretty sure the door says Galvin not House."

"Well, G and H are next to each other in the alphabet. It's very confusing."

"What do you want?"

"I was waiting to see how long it took to get a little Afternoon Delight. If you're going to borrow my employees, the least you could do is return them on time." House watched as Rachel stood before him stoically, "You're not going to say anything? No denial or feigned ignorance?"

"You're not an idiot, House. I'm not going to play games," Rachel said. "As long as you're not bugging either of us about our relationship, I couldn't care less."

House rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, "Way to take the fun out of it." He slid a file towards Rachel, "Forty-six year old man with motor impairment. What looks like Parkinson's, acts like Parkinson's, but doesn't respond to treatment like Parkinson's?"

"He didn't improve on levodopa?" Rachel asked as she reviewed the file.

"Nope, but Cuddy won't let me take him off it without a second opinion. She's convinced he needs more time to respond."

Rachel shook her head, "You should have seen some improvement by now. Multiple system atrophy would fit, maybe an old cerebral infarct." House collected the file and began to make a hasty exit before Rachel stopped him. "While I have you, what would you do if you were Remy's doctor?"

"You mean other than seducing her? Because you've done a pretty good job of that."

"I'm serious, House."

House shrugged, "I'd say you've exhausted your options in that department. All you can do is what you're already doing."

"I asked her about joining another drug trial and she wouldn't even consider it."

"Any reason she should? There haven't been any successful treatments. Why should she waste her time on something that's not going to extend her life?"

"But they could improve her life. The time she has left could be better."

"This has nothing to do with her. This is about you not being able to handle her diagnosis. Either deal with it or find a girlfriend who isn't dying."

"Thanks anyway, House," Rachel said sadly. House left quickly and she slumped behind her desk.

* * *

That evening, Thirteen was off to dinner with her father. They found themselves at one of her favorite restaurants. They caught up as they ate, reminiscing and making small talk. The conversation was as easy as it always was with her father, but Thirteen could feel an underlying tension.

"Dad, what's going on?" she finally asked. "There are no upcoming holidays or birthdays. As good as it is to see you, I know you didn't drive all this way just to have dinner with me."

Her father cleared his throat cautiously, "I came down to see your brother."

Thirteen dropped her gaze and pushed her food around uneasily, "How is he?"

"They put him on a respirator the other day," Mr. Hadley sighed. "Other than that, not much has changed. He has his good days and his bad. I imagine it will all take some getting used to for you."

Thirteen's eyes narrowed sharply, "Me? What do you mean?"

"The proxy agreement."

"Dad, I really don't think I can do that."

"You said you would take over your brother's healthcare once he needed to be intubated."

Thirteen shook her head, "It's an agreement, Dad, not a binding contract. I'm allowed to change my mind. You can't just show up and turn my life upside down like this."

Mr. Hadley reached out and took Thirteen by the hand. "You made a promise to your brother. He needs you right now. You can't walk away from that."

Thirteen pulled her hand away from her father's and placed a few bills on the table to cover the check. Without a word, she rose from the table and walked from the restaurant.

Thirteen rode home with her heart in her mouth. As she charged into her apartment, her stomach was twisted into knots. It lurched and churned with a nauseating force. She reached for her phone with a shaky hand and dialed Rachel's number.

"Pick up, pick up," she muttered between rings. She let out a shaky breath as Rachel finally answered, "Rachel?"

"Remy? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Thirteen lied as she bit back tears. "I've just had a really shitty night. Are you coming over? I really need to see you tonight."

"Yeah, of course I'm coming. I'll be there soon."

* * *

At her desk, Rachel rubbed her eyes sleepily. She stretched stiffly and gave a final look to the email she'd been reviewing. She quickly gathered the pile of documents she had printed from it and made a mental note to call and thank Michael. She flipped through them one last time and considered showing them to Thirteen. It only took a moment for her to imagine the many ways Thirteen might fly off the handle or tell her off before she put it out of her mind. She put the files away and headed out.

* * *

Rachel rushed over to Thirteen's apartment, largely ignoring the speed limit. When she arrived, she found Thirteen curled on the couch. Rachel tossed her things aside and went to Thirteen's side. She smiled and tenderly pushed Thirteen's bangs from her face. "Sorry I'm late. I fell asleep at my desk."

"It's okay," Thirteen mumbled. She sat up and wrapped her arms around Rachel.

"You sounded so upset on the phone. Did something happen with your dad?"

"We got into an argument. I ended up walking out on him."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"No one ever really means that," Rachel said teasingly.

Thirteen let out a small laugh, "I'll be okay."

"What happened?" Rachel asked. "You didn't come out to him, did you? Because of what I said earlier?"

"No, it wasn't that. I don't really want to talk about it," Thirteen said. "Do you wish things were different with me? Easier?"

"I wish…I wish we had more time." Rachel hesitated as Thirteen buried her head in her hands. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something. I lied when I told you I was going to a physio convention," she started. "Not lied exactly, I decided to tell you, I just wanted to wait until the time was right."

"Where did you go?"

"I went to the HDSA convention." Thirteen scoffed and Rachel immediately began trying to subdue her temper before it could truly flare. "I'm sorry I lied. I didn't want to bring it up unless I found something."

"What could you possibly find? There aren't any real treatments. There's nothing to delay symptoms."

"Not yet, but I've been talking to a researcher at UMass and in a year or two that could change," Rachel insisted.

"Could being the operative word," Thirteen huffed. She jumped up and began to pace angrily. "Why can't you just leave well enough alone? You can't save me! You can't change me!"

"I'm not trying to change you, I'm trying to help you."

"If who I am isn't enough for you, then go find someone healthy to be with. Spare me your pity for the dying girl."

Rachel took a deep breath and chose her words carefully, "I'm going to give you a moment to calm down. When you're ready to stop lashing out at me, maybe we can have an actual conversation."

Thirteen trudged across the room and flopped petulantly into a chair while Rachel went to the window. She tried desperately to quell the turbulent feelings building in her chest. Rachel's interference, her father's expectations, her brother's health; all of it made her want to scream. It took some time, but soon Thirteen sat quietly while her anger subsided. After a long while, she joined Rachel at the window.

"I'm sorry," Thirteen sighed. "I'm on edge because my dad is in town and I just freaked out."

"So, your father sends you into a neurotic craze too?"

"Not usually. It's all my fault. He came to talk to me about my brother and I couldn't deal. Then you came to talk to me about this and I handled it even worse. I'm so sorry." Thirteen brushed Rachel's arm as she took in the troubled look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Did you just say you have a brother?"

"I–I, uh…"

"When I told you about Evan you said you always wished you had an older brother."

"I know."

"But you do have one! Why would you lie about something like that?"

"Because I don't want him to be my brother! I don't want to see him or spend time with him or have him in my life!" Thirteen yelled. "Surprise, I have issues with my family, too. Sorry I didn't tell you every little thing about me."

Rachel was livid. The look in her eyes could have set fire to the apartment. "I didn't ask for every detail of your life. All I ever wanted was to be a part of it!" she shrieked. "I tell you everything. I can't believe you would lie to me about something so simple. You don't want to see your brother? Fine! Tell me that."

"When I told you I didn't have a brother we were just getting to know each other. I didn't want to get into it, and I didn't think it would ever come up again."

Rachel scoffed, "So I should feel better because you didn't mean to lie?"

"We weren't together."

"But we are now," Rachel insisted. "I have never, ever kept anything from you. I've been completely open since we started this. But you, you keep lying to me."

"Rachel, I'm sorry," Thirteen pleaded.

"When we were just friends I told you that I stayed out of relationships because I didn't like the idea of putting so much trust in one person. I guess I was right all along."

Rachel took one last look at Thirteen before she turned and stormed out. The slam of the door resounded through the apartment, filling it with a lonely echo. Thirteen held her head in her hands and let out a deep sigh.


	20. Chapter 20

Thirteen leaned against her front door. She could still feel Rachel's tense, angry energy radiating through the frame. She took a deep breath and eased the door open cautiously. Thirteen allowed the doorframe to hold her up as she stared at her feet sheepishly. Across from her, Rachel was leaning against the opposite wall. Her arms were folded tightly to her chest and she wouldn't face Thirteen, but she made no attempts to leave.

"I'm sorry," Thirteen said in a small voice. "I didn't mean to lie to you. I don't like lying to you or not telling you things. I just didn't know what else to do." Thirteen snuck a disheartened glance at Rachel. Her words didn't seem to be having any effect. "Could you talk to me, please? Would you look at me at least? You're still here, that must mean something."

Rachel still wouldn't look at her, "It means I nearly fell asleep on the way over and I don't think I'm alert enough to drive. If I have to I'll sleep in the hall."

"I know I hurt you, but that was never my intention. There are just some things in my life that I am not ready to face. It's easier not to deal with them when I'm with you. If you knew, I would lose that."

Rachel lifted her eyes to meet Thirteen's pleading gaze. "What are you hiding from?"

"I can't tell you that," Thirteen said. Rachel scoffed and turned away again. "I'm sorry, but I can't. Can you please come back inside so we can talk?"

Rachel thought for a moment before taking a deep breath and following Thirteen back into her apartment. When Rachel was finally standing close to her again, Thirteen placed a hand on her arm before Rachel jerked it away.

"Don't fucking touch me," she said sternly. "Just because I'm agreeing to talk doesn't mean we're making up."

"I know. I get it, you're mad at me."

"You have no idea," Rachel said. "I am furious with you. You've been lying to me for months. Over and over again, you lie to me. And that's not to mention the fact that you still won't tell me the truth. I've been nothing but honest with you. I put my trust in you, implicitly, and you betrayed it." Rachel let out a bitter laugh before she continued, "Still, what pisses me off most, what really kills me is that I can't walk away from you!"

"You should," Thirteen said softly. "You should walk out that door and never look back."

Rachel shook her head in annoyance, "Oh, don't do that. Don't play that wounded, passive-aggressive game with me."

"It's no game. This was a mistake. We never should have been together."

"That's all you have to say to me?" Rachel asked. The few tears that slid down Thirteen's cheeks didn't go unnoticed.

"I hurt you. If you stick around I'll keep hurting you."

"Not if you tell me the truth."

"The truth isn't going to change anything! It'll just make me feel more broken and more empty than I already do."

The tears were flowing freely now. Thirteen let herself fall to the couch in desperation. Putting her anger on the backburner, Rachel sat down in one of the chairs across from the couch. For a moment, she only listened to Thirteen's crestfallen sobs. Her shoulders trembled with every tear and Rachel began to worry.

"What could your brother have done to make you cut him out of your life?" Rachel asked. Thirteen shot her an anxious look but didn't respond. "You have to say something. There are a lot of scenarios running through my mind right now, none of them good. Did he hurt you?"

Thirteen shook her head, "It's nothing he did, it's just something that's a part of him. Now he's sick and I'm supposed to sit by his bedside and be strong and I can't do it."

"So, that's it? You're giving up on your brother, on me, on yourself?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"That's not the Remy Hadley I know."

Thirteen looked at Rachel starkly, "The Remy Hadley you know is a lie. All of this is just another lie. You and I don't have a future together. At least, not anything lasting. If you stay, someday soon this will all be a memory to keep you company while you watch me die."

Rachel's jaw dropped and she was completely taken aback, "Remy…"

"You know, I really don't have any answers for you tonight," Thirteen said. She rose calmly from the couch and made her way to the bedroom. "Goodnight."

* * *

The apartment was quiet as Rachel readied herself for work. She showered and dressed quickly before vacating the bedroom as Thirteen began to stir. In the kitchen, she poured herself a large cup of coffee. She hadn't slept well and she didn't imagine Thirteen had fared any better. She stared into her coffee while she waited for Thirteen to finish. After a while, Rachel returned to the bedroom and sat at the edge of the bed. Thirteen soon emerged from the bathroom, dressed for work, and stopped short when she saw her.

"What did your dad want last night?" Rachel asked without looking up.

"He wanted me to go see my brother. He's not doing well."

"You're really not going?"

"Not any time soon," Thirteen said.

"Did you mean what you said about us? About wanting me to leave?"

"I love you. I don't want you leave, I just think you'd be better off if you did."

"I'm not going to leave you, Remy. I'm hurt and angry, but I do love you," Rachel said. She finally turned to face Thirteen. "We should talk about this later. Will you be free tonight?"

Thirteen nodded, "You could spend the night. If we get into it again, I'll take the couch this time."

Rachel smiled at Thirteen's small joke, but sobered quickly, "No more fights. I just want to work things out." She stood silently and left Thirteen to finish getting ready.

* * *

That afternoon Thirteen stole away to Rachel's office. She peered through the window for a moment, watching Rachel as she sat hunched over a pile of paperwork. She knocked tentatively before peeking her head in. Rachel glanced up as Thirteen entered. "What's up?" she asked.

"I brought you a sandwich. I thought maybe we could have lunch together."

Rachel nodded and Thirteen sat down across from her. As they began to eat, she was keenly aware of Thirteen watching her.

"Is there something on your mind?" she asked.

"I just wanted to apologize for last night. It's hard for me to tell you things sometimes. My life with you is simple and happy and I didn't want anything to ruin that."

"Lying never makes things simple, Remy. I think I deserve a little honesty from you."

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to keep that part of my life separate from us."

"What part?"

"Don't ask me that. You know I can't answer that."

"Won't answer," Rachel muttered.

"Can't," Thirteen insisted. "My life is hard enough and sooner than I ever expected it'll be over. Why is it so wrong for me to want to keep some part of it happy?"

"So, the only way you can be happy with me is by keeping secrets?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean? Really?"

"What do you want from me? I'm trying to explain myself."

"You're trying to rationalize."

"I'm trying to make you understand. There are things about my life and my family that I don't want to deal with."

"I can't live in denial with you," Rachel said softly.

"Are you trying to force me to choose between you and the truth?"

"No, I'm just being honest. And that's all I want from you."

"Fine," Thirteen sighed in frustration. "I'm honestly not comfortable telling you everything."

"I don't know if I can accept that."

Thirteen laughed slightly, "I can't keep one thing to myself?"

"I don't know, Remy. I don't know what it is or how it affects us or you or me."

"It only affects me. And I'd like to keep it that way."

Rachel frowned harshly at Thirteen, "You can't close yourself off like that. Anything that affects you affects me!"

"This is my life, Rachel," Thirteen said in a low voice. "Mine! I've shared everything I can with you. All I'm asking is to hold on to this one thing."

Rachel shook her head and jumped to her feet, "You don't know what you're asking. You have no idea how it feels to be in this position. I've known you almost two years and apparently you've been lying to me the whole time. Now you want me to trust you enough to bury this? In case you haven't noticed keeping secrets is tearing us apart!"

"Because you can't let go!" Thirteen almost yelled. She rushed around the desk and stood in front of Rachel. "You're obsessing over this. Over everything. You're so busy trying to make sure we have a future that you're ruining what we have now."

"I can't do this right now," Rachel said through gritted teeth. "You should go."

Thirteen turned on her heel and stormed out of the office. Rachel slammed her hands down on the desk. As a fit of pique took over she violently knocked everything to the floor.

* * *

Rachel trudged through the door tiredly. She glanced around the apartment anxiously for a moment before realizing that Thirteen wasn't home yet. She hopped into the shower and let the warm water wash over her body, hoping that the stress of her day might wash down the drain.

She dragged herself from the shower and toweled off. Just as she pulled on a pair of shorts and a thin t-shirt, her phone rang. She hesitated as she noticed Thirteen's number.

"Hey," Rachel answered. "I just got in. Are you on your way?"

"No, I'm going to be a while. They just called a code seven."

"A lockdown? Any idea why?"

"Nope, I'm stuck in the cafeteria." Thirteen sighed dramatically, "I guess our big talk will have to wait. I was so looking forward to it."

"Oh, I'm sure you were," Rachel said drolly. "Try not to be so pleased with the delay."

"What are you wearing?" Thirteen asked.

"I hope you don't think you can assuage my anger by being cute."

"Can't I?"

"No."

"I'm just saying, if you're in those little shorts I like with the shirt I can see your nipples through, you'll pretty much win any argument we might have tonight."

Rachel looked down at her clothes, at the outfit Thirteen had just described. She smirked to herself, but kept her tone neutral, "I'll see you when you get home, Remy."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

Rachel felt thankful for the reprieve as she hung up. She grabbed a book and made herself comfortable on the couch. As she started to read, her heavy lids made it clear that sleep was not far behind.

* * *

A sharp knocking startled Rachel from her shallow slumber. She bolted upright and begrudgingly pulled herself from her position on the couch to answer the door. "Yes?" she asked, her voice heavy with sleep. Rachel tried to take stock of the visitor as she rubbed her eyes. Before her stood a man in his late fifties. His dark hair and clear blue eyes gave him away instantly.

"Sorry, I was looking for Remy Hadley."

"You must be her dad," Rachel said. As he gave her a nod, she stepped aside to let him enter.

"John Hadley," he said, extending his hand to Rachel, who shook it nervously.

"Rachel Galvin. Nice to meet you." Rachel finally remembered her appearance and her cheeks began to flush. "Would you excuse me a moment? Please make yourself at home." Rachel rushed to the bedroom to hunt for a robe. She covered herself hurriedly and returned to find Mr. Hadley at the kitchen table.

"I'm sorry to stop by so late," Mr. Hadley said. "Remy's usually a night owl."

"There was a problem at the hospital. She isn't home. If you want to wait for her, I could make tea or something," Rachel offered awkwardly.

"That'd be great."

Rachel didn't hesitate to start on the tea. She was glad to have something between her and the tension of the moment. There was so much Thirteen had hidden from her father; Rachel herself was proof of that. It was difficult to tiptoe around the truth when she didn't know what lies had been told.

"Are you Remy's roommate?" Mr. Hadley asked, snapping Rachel from her thoughts.

"No, I–we're just friends. I just crash here every now and then," Rachel answered. She instantly rolled her eyes at how ridiculous that sounded.

"You know her pretty well then?"

"I suppose so," Rachel said tentatively. She poured the tea between two mugs and took them to the table. As she sat down with Mr. Hadley, she suddenly felt even more anxious than before.

"Has she told you about her brother?"

Rachel nodded, "She told me he wasn't doing well. I'm sorry."

"I tried to talk to her yesterday, but she's taking the news pretty hard. Maybe you could talk to her for me," Mr. Hadley proposed. "I know she signed the agreement a long time ago. If she doesn't want to be his healthcare proxy, that's fine, but–"

"Healthcare proxy?" Rachel interrupted. "I don't understand."

"He was put on a respirator last week. Remy agreed to take over his healthcare once that happened. She signed the agreement a few years ago."

"A few y–" Rachel stopped short as the realization dawned on her. Her head spun as the gravity of it all caught up with her. "He has Huntington's."

"You didn't know?" Mr. Hadley asked. "How much did she tell you about her brother?"

Rachel scoffed and shook her head furiously, "Until last night I didn't even know she had a brother. She only said that he was sick." She scowled into her tea as she slouched over the table, her shoulders hunched tensely.

Mr. Hadley studied Rachel carefully, "How long have you known my daughter?"

"A year and a half or so," Rachel muttered.

"How long have you been together?" Mr. Hadley watched as Rachel's head snapped up. At a loss for words, she could only give him a long, vacant stare. "You're too comfortable here to be an occasional guest," he explained. "It's okay. I'd just like to know a little about my daughter's life. She'd never tell me on her own."

"We've been together for five months."

"Don't worry. I'll tell her I guessed," Mr. Hadley said. He got a small laugh from Rachel before her frown returned. "Remy always did like to keep things to herself."

Rachel nodded, "Don't I know it. I just never thought she'd keep something so important from me."

"Neither did I. I feel like I don't know her anymore."

Rachel looked at Mr. Hadley pitifully. He had no idea how much his daughter was keeping from him. "I can talk to Remy for you, try and bring her around. I can't make any promises, though. You know how stubborn she is."

Rachel and Mr. Hadley shared a laugh until they were interrupted by the clatter of the front door. They fell silent for a moment as Thirteen came through the door.

"Rach?" she called. "I had the weirdest night, you'll never believe it. Wilson and I–" Thirteen stopped suddenly as she walked through the foyer and set eyes on her father. "Dad. What are you doing here?"

"I was just having a talk with your girlfriend," Mr. Hadley said. Thirteen's eyes widened at his choice of words. "I wanted to see if you'd changed your mind."

"I haven't," Thirteen said quickly. "Rachel, can I talk to you for a moment?" Thirteen headed for the bedroom with Rachel close behind. She closed the door after them, but feeling like they could still be seen, she pulled Rachel into the bathroom and drew the curtain that partitioned it from the bedroom. "Girlfriend?" Thirteen whispered. "You outed me to my dad?"

"I'm hanging out in your one-bedroom apartment dressed like this," Rachel said, opening her robe. "It's pretty obvious who I am to you."

"You could have covered."

"I tried. The only thing I could think to say was that I crash here sometimes. God, I sounded like an idiot. I can't lie to your dad for you."

"Why did you even let him in?"

"What was I supposed to do? Ignore the knocking until he went away? He came to see you. Do you have any idea how lucky you are?"

"Yeah, my dad's here begging me to do something I don't want to do. He's uncovered secrets about my life I never intended for him to find out–"

"You have a father who loves you. One who cares about you enough to go out of his way check on you. One who isn't so preoccupied with his own bullshit that his only way of dealing with you is to ignore you," Rachel growled, no longer bothering to keep her voice down. She stormed from the bathroom and grabbed her clothes, pulling them on in a hurry.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to wait in the hall so you can talk to your dad."

"I don't want to talk to him," Thirteen insisted.

"Then go out there and tell him that," Rachel said. She began to make her exit, turning back to Thirteen only for a second. "By the way, your dad isn't the only one who uncovered secrets tonight. More lies, Remy."

Rachel rushed from the apartment. She paced the hallway for a moment before coming to rest across from Thirteen's door. She leaned her head against the wall and tried to calm down. She could feel herself losing it; her breaths were coming raggedly and her body began to tremble. When she could no longer hold it back, Rachel lashed out at the wall. She slammed her hands against it over and over again while she berated it with kicks. She unleashed one good punch on the wall before the resulting pain snapped her from her rage.

Tears streamed down Rachel's cheeks as she sunk to the floor. She hugged her knees and buried her face as she tried to muffle her heaving sobs. Her eyes stung, her throat hurt, a thick, salty taste took over her mouth, and a dull ache began to weigh in her chest. Rachel could hear the muffled sounds of Thirteen's conversation. She could hear pieces of her father's plaintive pleas. Thirteen was telling him no again.

Rachel began to pull herself together. She stubbornly slowed her breathing far below the rate her body was demanding but it eventually submitted to the new rhythm. Still, she couldn't hold the tears back. They were having no part of Rachel's attempts to preserve her pride.

The door clicked open suddenly and Rachel wiped the tears away furiously, though she was sure the glisten of her cheeks would be a dead giveaway. As Mr. Hadley exited the apartment slowly, Rachel hung her head and hoped he wouldn't notice her. She had no such luck, but thankfully Mr. Hadley seemed considerate of her current state.

"It was nice meeting you, Rachel," he said quietly. "Take care."

Rachel could only nod slightly. As he left the building, she half-noticed Thirteen standing in the doorway. She looked up at her sadly, "You can't keep putting me in this position."

"What position?"

"I want to be angry. I want to be furious with you and tell you off. I want to stay away from you until you earn my trust back, but I can't. I understand now. It all makes sense now. Why you don't visit your family. Why you won't tell your dad about your diagnosis. Why you won't see your brother."

"I told you, there are things that I can't face yet."

"Well, all those things are staring you down," Rachel said, pulling herself from the floor. "So, you'd better get ready to deal." She walked back into the apartment and headed for the bedroom. She crawled onto the bed and sat with her knees pulled to her chest again.

Thirteen leaned against the wall and watched Rachel silently for a few moments. "I'm sorry I hurt you," she said after a while.

"Comes with the territory, I guess," Rachel shrugged. "You're the only person I've ever let close enough to hurt me."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Rachel didn't seem to hear her, "I can't help wondering if we were ever close."

"That's not fair, Rachel."

"It's not only fair, it's the truth," Rachel said. "You keep putting lies between us. I let you in, we gave this thing between us a good run, and I thought we were sharing our lives with each other. But looking at the last few days, I don't feel like I know you anymore."

"You do, you know me better than anyone. I've never lied to you about who I am."

"No, you just lied about your family, your history. That's not much better," Rachel said. "How could you do this to them? They're your family."

"I had to. If my dad knows I'm sick, then he'll lose everything. If I keep things light and simple between us, he'll still have hope," Thirteen sniffled. She rubbed at her eyes as tears fell in rivulets. "Why should I take that from him?"

"There's one thing I don't understand. You said you didn't want your brother to be your brother. Why push him out of your life?"

"If he wasn't my brother, if we weren't related, he wouldn't be dying. He'd be safe and healthy."

"Well, I got half an answer," Rachel mumbled.

"Sorry, did I lie to you again?" Thirteen sneered.

"Yourself this time. I think you're afraid that if you see your brother, then you'll lose everything. You'll lose hope."

"What can I do?" Thirteen asked pleadingly. "What can I do to fix this?"

"Go see your brother."

"I meant with you."

"There's nothing you can do to make me feel any less like the person I'm closest to has been ripped away from me. But you can call your dad and tell him you'll go see your brother."

Thirteen shook her head quickly, "I told you I can't do that. You just said you think that would take away my hope. Why would you want that for me?"

"Because that's what real here," Rachel said softly. "You and your brother have Huntington's. Your life isn't simple and light and you can't protect your dad from any of this. But if you don't go and be with your family you will regret it."

Thirteen shook her head as the tears overtook her. Rachel walked over to her and led her to the bed. She pulled Thirteen into her arms and brushed her tears away gently. When Thirteen had calmed a bit, Rachel spoke a few careful words, "You weren't there when your mom died and I know you still carry that with you. If you aren't there for your brother, it'll be worse. He needs you."

"I can't do it," Thirteen cried.

Rachel nodded against Thirteen's neck, "You can. You're stronger than you think. And I'll go with you." She pulled Thirteen closer and rubbed her back until she began to relax. As they settled in for the night, Rachel stayed close, holding Thirteen tightly the whole time.

* * *

Thirteen was slow to stir the next morning. She pulled herself out of bed hesitantly. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air and she could hear Rachel beginning her day. A glance at the clock sent her to wash and dress quickly.

When she entered the kitchen she found Rachel in the middle of her morning routine, nursing a cup of coffee as she read the newspaper. Rachel flipped through the paper with her left hand before going for her coffee, again with her left hand. In Rachel's lap, Thirteen spied her right hand gingerly resting against an ice-filled kitchen towel.

"Morning," Thirteen said quietly.

"Morning. Breakfast is on the stove."

Thirteen nodded and retrieved the plate Rachel had left for her. She grabbed her own cup of coffee and joined Rachel at the table. Although she wasn't hungry, she pushed the food around the plate and forced herself to eat. "What happened to your hand?" she asked after a while.

"Punched a wall. It's fine."

Thirteen looked at Rachel sheepishly, "You should let me look at it. I know you're still angry, but–"

"I'm not," Rachel said quickly. "I'll see you at work. Maybe we can meet for lunch." She rose from the table and collected her things, throwing Thirteen an uncertain smile before she headed for the door.

* * *

When lunchtime came Thirteen was returning to the hospital after running an errand. In her hand she held a large paper bag. She went for the elevator and waited patiently as it ascended to her floor. When the doors opened, she made her way to Rachel's office and quickly knocked on the door before entering. She placed the bag on the desk and shot Rachel a smile. "From that diner you like," she said. She began unpacking the bag, unwrapping a large sandwich. "Pastrami, coleslaw, extra Swiss, Russian dressing on one side, spicy mustard on the other, piled high on rye bread."

"You brought me a Rachel?"

"And fries," Thirteen added cheerfully.

"And you've cleverly brought me more food than I would ever eat on my own."

Thirteen dropped her gaze to the floor disappointedly and Rachel instantly regretted her words. "I just wanted to do something for you. If you don't want to have lunch together, I'll go."

"I didn't mean it like that. I was trying to be coy or something–I don't know," Rachel sighed. "I'm sorry."

Thirteen nodded, "It's okay. I understand. You have every right to be upset with me."

"I'm not. I'm not being passive-aggressive. I'm not punishing you. You don't have to try and make amends," Rachel said, gesturing to the sandwich. "I'm honestly not angry."

"Okay…why exactly aren't you angry?"

"I told you, I get it now. All this time, you've been hiding, pretending just so you could get through the day. I can't be angry with you for trying to cope."

"So everything's just fine now?"

"No, I didn't say that. Things are still pretty messed up between us," Rachel said. "I'm still hurt. I still feel this distance between us. Things are awkward and uncomfortable right now, but we'll get past it."

"Right," Thirteen said quietly.

"Well, I'm not going to give up on you," Rachel told her. Thirteen looked up at her with disbelief. "That seems to be what you're waiting for, what you're hoping for even."

"I just don't want to ever put you in the situation I'm in with my brother."

"That should be my choice."

"And you're going to stick with me forever? Are you honestly saying you're willing to make that commitment?"

Rachel hesitated, "I can't know that right now. I don't know what forever looks like. I can't even imagine life five years from now. All I know is that for as far as I can see, I want to be with you. No matter what."

Thirteen gave her a weak smile and turned her focus to lunch. As they ate, she noticed Rachel was still reaching for things with her left hand. "Let me see your hand," she said, moving to Rachel's side.

"It's fine," Rachel insisted.

Thirteen took Rachel's hand as she offered and looked it over carefully. "Is it fine or are you using the pain to deal?"

"That's not how it works, Remy."

"This is my fault. I don't want you hurting yourself because I did something stupid," Thirteen said. She looked at Rachel squarely, "This is going to sound weird given the last couple of days, but you can be honest with me. I want you to talk to me about this."

Rachel sighed, "It's not not helping, but I'm not using it on purpose. I just don't want to broadcast the fact that I tried to take out a wall."

Thirteen nodded and kissed Rachel's hand delicately, "I'm sorry."

Rachel smiled at Thirteen as she continued the examination. Pain radiated through her hand when she attempted to stretch her fingers outward, and when Thirteen asked her to make a fist, her middle finger crossed over her ring finger.

"Well," Thirteen said. "The knuckle isn't sunken, but there's a lot of swelling and you can't keep your fingers straight. I'll need to get you to radiology, but I think you fractured it."

The pair finished lunch quickly and headed for the radiology department. Thirteen x-rayed Rachel's hand, and brought the films to the viewing room. As soon as she placed the films against the lightbox they were able to see the problem.

"There it is," Thirteen said, pointing to the knuckle of Rachel's middle finger.

"Wonderful," Rachel grumbled.

"It's not bad, just a hairline fracture. You should only need a splint for a couple of weeks."

She led Rachel back to her office, stopping briefly in the clinic to gather supplies. When she returned, Thirteen pulled out a splint and began to affix it to Rachel's hand. It was made of coated metal and had a soft foam liner to rest against the skin. It followed the contours of Rachel's hand and curled under her fingers so that not even the tips hung over. Thirteen applied tape just above the knuckles and loosely covered everything with a compression bandage. "You're all fixed up. How's it feel?"

"Like a really stupid way to blow off steam," Rachel sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. I make my own choices."

"You don't make them in a vacuum. I'm at fault, too."

Rachel quickly changed the subject, "Did you call your dad?" Thirteen shook her head as a guilt-stricken look came over her. "You're really not going?"

"I have to go," Thirteen sighed. "It's like you said, he needs me. I just can't seem to call my dad. Were you serious about going with me?"

"Of course." Rachel took Thirteen by the hand, "Do you want me to call your dad?"

"No, it should be me, I just can't bring myself to do it."

"We could just show up," Rachel suggested. Thirteen nodded and Rachel pulled her into a hug. "I love you, Remy. Please trust that I am always here for you."


	21. Chapter 21

Hello! I know it's been a long time, but this story is not dead. Life just got the better of me for a while. But rest assured I will definitely see this story through. And to make it up to you all, if I haven't lost all my readers, I've got one super long chapter for you.

* * *

Rachel snuck a glance at Thirteen while she drove down the Turnpike. Thirteen hadn't said a word in the two hours they had been on the road. Rachel tried to think of something to say that might bring her around, but nothing had worked so far. Thirteen had spent the entire drive staring out the window.

It had taken a lot of persistence on Rachel's part to actually get them to this point. Even after finally committing to see her brother, Thirteen had tried to find a way out of it. She had buried herself in work for weeks, volunteering to go on all the team's home checks and even doing House's clinic duty. In the end, Rachel had forged a letter requesting time off, leaving Thirteen with little choice but to go along with it.

For the time being, they were coming up on the hospice where Thirteen's brother was being treated. As Rachel pulled the car to a stop she couldn't believe it; the hospice was a reasonable distance from Princeton, it seemed to have been specifically chosen to give Thirteen easy access to her brother. And still she had never been to see him.

Rachel peered over at Thirteen once more. "Are you ready?"

"I can't do this," Thirteen said in a whisper. She stayed huddled in her seat as she cast a hopeless look to the hospice.

"You can. I know it'll be hard, but you'll get through it." Rachel reached for Thirteen's hand only for her to pull away quickly.

"I can't go in there."

"I thought you wanted to honor your promise to your brother."

Thirteen shook her head, "I can't."

"Remy–"

"I don't care anymore. I can't do what I promised him!"

Rachel sighed as she considered what she was about to say, "If you were in his position what would you want?"

Thirteen finally shot a glance at Rachel as tears stung in her eyes. She was angry that Rachel would use such a ploy, but she knew she was right. As she began to straighten up, another vehicle pulled into the parking space next to them. Thirteen's father quickly emerged from the car as a woman exited the passenger side.

Thirteen took a deep, shaky breath and got out to greet them. "Dad," she said, hugging her father and the woman. "I didn't know you were back in town."

"We wanted to stay on top of your brother's condition. It is so good to see you here." Mr. Hadley pulled Thirteen into another tight hug. After a moment, he turned to Rachel, who was hanging back by her car. "Nice to see you again, Rachel."

"You too, Mr. Hadley."

"Call me John," he said with a soft smile. "This is my wife Diane."

Thirteen watched as Rachel exchanged niceties with her stepmother. When her father suggested they head inside, she began to feel anxious again. She suddenly found herself frozen by the car.

Noticing her apprehension, Rachel gently took Thirteen by the hand, "It'll be okay."

"No it won't," Thirteen insisted. "Nothing will ever be the same after this."

Thirteen went pale and a look came over her that Rachel didn't quite understand. It wasn't like any expression she had ever seen from her. All she could make sense of was the fear that troubled her usually sharp eyes. Without a word she pulled Thirteen into her arms and held her tightly. Thirteen clung to Rachel for a long while before pulling away. Rachel tried to think of something reassuring to tell her, but nothing seemed worth saying. She held Thirteen's hand tightly and hoped it would be enough.

"Come on," she said quietly.

* * *

Inside the hospice the atmosphere was warm and homey. It might even have been more comfortable than Princeton-Plainsboro had the couple not spent as much time there as they did in their own homes. They followed Mr. Hadley to the room where Thirteen's brother stayed. The closer they got, the more Rachel was aware of Thirteen squeezing her hand. When they reached the door of his room, Thirteen drew in a tense breath and held it. Rachel returned the squeezing against Thirteen's hand, urging her to stay calm.

Thirteen's brother sat in a wheelchair, arms flailing and head reeling as her father and stepmother tried to hug him. He was no longer intubated, but on supplemental oxygen instead. His voice was strained and came out muffled as he tried to speak through the mask. Thirteen entered the room slowly. When he saw her, a light came to his eyes along with some semblance of a smile.

"Remy," he stuttered.

Thirteen finally released Rachel and knelt down at her brother's side, throwing her arms around him. Her heart broke as he thrashed against her, but she couldn't deny how good it was to see him. After a while she stood and turned back to Rachel. "Rach, meet my brother, Ian."

Rachel flashed Ian the sort kindhearted smile that always made Thirteen feel safe and loved. Thirteen took it in for a moment, tempering her anxiety. She was quickly snapped from her reverie as Ian descended into a particularly violent fit of chorea. His left arm jerked backward, colliding so sharply with Thirteen that she nearly jumped out of her skin. She shrank away from him for a moment before realizing she needed to do something. She grabbed hold of Ian's arm and gently pressed it to his side, trying to get the muscles to relax into a normal posture. To her dismay, the spasms only seemed to get worse.

As she struggled to still her brother's floundering limb, Rachel came to her aid. "May I help?" she asked. Thirteen could only nod as the contracture continued to confound her. She watched as Rachel carefully extended Ian's arm. She held him firmly by the shoulder until much of the rigidity subsided. As the tension calmed, Rachel ran her hands down the length of Ian's arm, massaging his muscles. "If you force a muscle in the direction you want it, it'll usually go the opposite way," she said. When she finally released his arm, it lay still at his side.

"Thank you," Thirteen said.

"No problem."

"I think we should get him to the bed. Will you help me move him?"

"Of course," Rachel nodded certainly.

Thirteen slipped her arms around her brother's back and under his legs while Rachel did the same on the other side. The moment she had her arms around him she could feel how thin he had gotten. Ian had once been twice her size. He'd been active and muscular. Now he was frail and weak, and she was able to hold him in her arms. She and Rachel settled him onto the bed and made sure he was well supported. As she straightened up, Thirteen brushed a few errant tears from her cheeks. A heavy feeling of nausea settled in her stomach and she quickly headed for the door mumbling something about getting copies of Ian's records.

Thirteen rushed down the hall, furiously wiping at her eyes. She made her way to the empty stairwell and crouched down on one of the steps, burying her hands in her hair. Her body began to tremble as her breath hitched in her throat. She desperately tried to pull herself together, but stifling the feelings stirring in her chest only made them come on stronger. After a while Rachel crept into the stairwell. She leaned against the wall and stood quietly.

"You're not going to say anything?" Thirteen asked.

"I would ask if you're okay, but I know you're not."

"I don't even recognize him," Thirteen choked out. "He can't walk, he can barely breathe. He's dying and I'm going to have to be the one–this is too much."

Rachel quickly moved to the stairs and took Thirteen in her arms. She whispered soothing words as Thirteen cried on her shoulder. It took a few minutes for her to calm down and pry herself away from Rachel. "I'm glad you came with me," she mumbled hoarsely. "I needed to see him, and I wouldn't have done it on my own."

"Anyway I can help you, I will," Rachel said. "Why don't I get Ian's records while you spend a bit more time with him?"

"No. I can't go back in there."

"You didn't come all this way to sit in the hall."

"Don't push me," Thirteen said sternly.

"Other than the obvious, what could be so horrible about caring for your brother? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"I am trying to tell you. I can't keep my promise to him. It's not just the proxy agreement. I–you wouldn't understand."

"When have I ever had a problem understanding anything about you?"

"Well, you don't seem to understand that I don't want to talk about this."

"I'm sorry, Remy, but I can't drop this. I can't let you walk out on your family. Even if it's the hardest thing you have ever had to do, isn't it worth it to give your brother some dignity in his last days?"

"There's nothing dignified about death! That's all that's left for him."

"No, it's not."

"It is! And it's all on me. I'm the one who has to deal with it. That is why I cannot be here."

"Then abandon him," Rachel shrugged. "Let him die slow and alone."

"He has my dad and Diane."

"How often do honestly think they'll be able to get down here? Do you really think they're prepared to handle decisions you're struggling with after a decade of medical training?"

Tears began to return to Thirteen's eyes, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to be honest with yourself," Rachel said firmly. "Don't keep putting this decision off. If you're going to be Ian's proxy, then stop pushing your responsibility off on your family and do it. You can't keep hiding behind the fact that it scares you."

"But it does scare me!" Thirteen shot. "Living up to this promise scares me more than dying myself."

"I know. I swear to God, I know. This is an impossible situation for you, but you can't let it paralyze you."

Thirteen sat quietly for a few minutes. She took a deep breath and finally stood, "You get his records and I'll go sit with him a while longer."

Rachel nodded and headed off while Thirteen slunk back to Ian's room. When she walked through the door, her father and stepmother were standing by Ian's bedside. She hesitated for a moment before she walked to the free side of the bed and stood uncertainly. She sat on the bed carefully and took her brother's hand. As it bucked and cogwheeled against hers, she only held it tighter, refusing to let go.

* * *

Thirteen paced up and down the floor of her bedroom, flipping through a thick document intently. She grabbed another document from the bed and began to pore over it with the same fervor. Rachel watched her carefully with concern.

"Remy, come to bed."

"Not now," Thirteen said absently. "I want to finish these."

"You've been going over those files all night. You probably have them memorized by now."

"Just let me review these," Thirteen huffed.

"Come to bed and I will help you review them." Thirteen groaned as Rachel got up and took the files from her. She crawled into bed, where she promptly sunk down into the pillows. Rachel curled up next to her and held her close. "What are you looking for?" she asked.

"What am I supposed to do for him?"

"You make decisions for him, make sure he's treated according to his wishes. Just help him."

"That's just it," Thirteen said. "There's nothing I can do to help him. There are no treatments he could benefit from. We're just waiting for him to…"

"Die," Rachel said quietly. "I can't imagine how hard this is for you. But your brother trusted that you would know what to do when the time came."

"It's not even as if I can be his doctor."

"Not officially, but you work for one of the best doctors in the country. You have knowledge and experience they don't. They'd be idiots not to listen to you."

Thirteen sighed and leaned against Rachel heavily, "I think I need to take a hiatus from work."

"Sounds good. I'll put in for time off, too."

"No," Thirteen said. "You have a whole department to run."

"Someone can cover for me. I want to be with you."

"I can't have you drop everything for me," Thirteen insisted. "I need something to stay normal."

Rachel nodded, "How's half time? I want to be sure I can still be there for you. I don't want work to get in the way."

"Okay, sounds good," Thirteen said. She curled closer to Rachel, "Thank you for being here."

"Where else would I be?" Rachel said softly. "I'm always here for you, Remy."

"I know," Thirteen said.

"I don't know what to say when you're like this. What can I say to make you feel better?"

"You can tell me you love me."

"I do, I love you."

"And that you'll be with me through all of this."

"Every step of the way."

Thirteen sighed, "And that someday I'll be able to have the slightest glimmer of happiness and hold onto it for a while."

Rachel slid down to Thirteen's level and kissed her, "I'll make sure of it."

* * *

The next morning Thirteen was following the usual lead and draft routine as House carried on a differential through the hallways. Her mind wasn't there. She wasn't anywhere close to being focused on the case. All she could think about was filing for time off and getting back to her brother. There was the nagging question of how to accomplish her goals without House or the team prying into her personal life, but for now she couldn't be bothered with the details. As the rest of the team split off into separate directions, Thirteen followed House to his office.

"Not satisfied with just one assignment?" he asked, easing into his chair. "Fine, test the patient's blood and then MRI his head."

Thirteen nodded vaguely, "I need to take some time off."

"You just took time off."

"I need more."

"How much more?" House asked. He was eyeing Thirteen in a way she knew meant he had already begun analyzing her.

"I don't know exactly. Until further notice."

"What for?" House asked, already knowing better that to expect a straight answer.

"It's personal."

"Right. Get me a letter," House said. Thirteen nodded and began to make her way out as House called after her, "Make sure the signature's in your own handwriting this time. Your girlfriend does a damn good forgery, though. Might want to keep an eye on your checkbook."

Thirteen set off to complete the tests for her patient. She was in and out of the patient's room almost as quickly as House would have been. Before long she sat in the lab waiting for the results of the blood test. As her mind wandered, she pulled out her phone and brought up her father's number. She considered calling him for a moment, then pushed the phone aside. Her mind started racing again. All the intrusive thoughts she had been avoiding were catching up with her. She shook her head, hoping to clear it and refocus herself. Just as she returned to the work before her, the results she'd been waiting for began to print. With the beeping of the machine came unexpected memories. As she looked over the printout, it wasn't the patient's test results she held in her hand, but the results confirming her own Huntington's diagnosis. She stared at the paper in disbelief. Her chest started to tighten and she began to feel lightheaded. She shook her head again and tucked the memory safely away.

She took out her phone and pulled up her father's number again. Almost immediately, she decided against calling him and held her head in her hands. After a few deep, slow breaths the sickening feeling in her stomach started to recede. But as a voice called out to her, it returned in an instant. Thirteen straightened up and checked her phone. She bit her lip hard as she mentally kicked herself. Somehow she had hit send and her father was on the line.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Dad, it's me," Thirteen said in a small voice.

"How are you sweetheart?"

"I'm okay. I just wanted to see how Ian was doing today."

"No change since yesterday, Remy. Are you feeling alright? You sound a little shaken up."

"I'm fine, Dad. I should be there in a few days. I'm going to take some time off work so I can be with him."

"That's great, Rem. Just don't get so wrapped up in all of this that you forget to take care of yourself."

"Yeah. I've got to go, Dad." Thirteen hung up quickly and got back to work so she could have a chance of getting home at a reasonable hour.

* * *

As she sat at her desk that night Thirteen could only stare at a blank document on her laptop. She had been trying to write her letter to House for over an hour. The letter had been started, revised, and erased so many times she could barely remember what she was trying to say. She could already feel herself getting lost in this. All she could think of was her brother. It was starting to consume her.

Rachel walked over to her and placed a bowl on the desk, "You should eat something." She kissed the top of Thirteen's head and pulled up a chair. "Can I help with anything?"

"I can't write this," Thirteen mumbled as she dug into her food dutifully.

"Just keep it short and sweet. You need time off and you don't know when you'll be back."

"No, I mean, if I write this, it all becomes real. I'm on my way to a hospice to watch my brother die."

"Gimme," Rachel said, taking the laptop and typing quickly. "Dear prying assholes, until further notice I will be taking time off from work. The reason for my leave of absence is none of your business. Simply know that when I am ready to return, I will let you know. Sincerely, Remy 'Thirteen' Hadley."

Thirteen laughed loudly and nestled her head against Rachel's neck. "I think House would be amused, but there's a fine line between making him laugh and pissing him off."

"Leave it to me," Rachel said, kissing Thirteen's forehead. "You just finish your dinner and get some rest. I'll come up with something a little more professional sounding and in the morning all you'll have to do is approve it and sign."

Thirteen nodded, "What about you? Did you talk to Cuddy?"

"I did. I'll get her my letter tomorrow, work things out with my staff, and all will be good."

"What did you tell her? Did she say anything about you changing your schedule?"

"I doubt she'll connect our absences if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not about us, I just don't want anyone asking questions about me."

"They're going to ask questions. You know they're going to ask questions. I give it two days before House is in my office interrogating me."

"Well, I don't want them coming up with any answers."

"Don't worry. The team won't have a clue and Cuddy isn't as intrusive as House. I just told her I had some family stuff to work out."

"I still feel like I need an alibi," Thirteen said. Rachel could only scoff in response. "I'm serious. You don't know them like I do. They won't let this rest."

Rachel peered over at Thirteen's empty bowl, "Go to bed, Remy. Everything else can wait until morning."

Thirteen gave Rachel a peck on the lips and trudged off to bed. As she slipped between the sheets, she shut her eyes tightly and tried to quiet her mind. There were so many worries and questions buzzing around her that it became deafening. It wasn't until Rachel came to bed more than an hour later that she was able to find any peace. As Rachel wrapped a supportive arm around her, Thirteen let out a shaky breath and allowed herself relax.

* * *

Thirteen lay in bed the next morning trying to silence her thoughts. She had woken an hour earlier than normal, but now she was getting closer and closer to being late. She stared at the ceiling, trying in vain to pull herself together enough to face the day ahead of her. She could hear Rachel clicking around the apartment as she prepared to leave. The clicking drew closer as Rachel stopped in to check on her.

"Are you going in late today?" she asked as she took a seat on the bed.

"A little. It's just hard to get started today."

Thirteen sat up and ran her hands through her hair. Rachel placed a warm hand on her neck and hugged her, "Are you going to be okay? You could stay home. I can give your letter to House."

"I'll be fine."

"Here it is by the way," Rachel said, handing her the printed letter.

Thirteen quickly skimmed it, "Thank you."

"Look, I know you're worried about the team asking too many questions, so I did some research for you. There's a drug trial starting in Rome. It seems like the perfect alibi."

Thirteen nodded, "Sounds like I need to book a flight to Rome. God, the list keeps getting longer."

"List?"

"I need to pack, set up a meeting with the doctors at the hospice, suspend my phone services, find a place to stay."

"I get the phones, House and Foreman would call you nonstop, but why can't you stay here?"

"It's too far. If something happens two hours is too long a drive."

"Good point," Rachel considered. "Why don't you suspend just your home number and change your cell number? I'll find you a place to stay, then tonight you can pack and call the doctors."

"Okay," Thirteen said quietly.

"Do whatever you need to do. Just don't forget that there are people here to help you," Rachel said with a kiss. "I'll see you at work."

Rachel left with a hesitant look and Thirteen listened as the clicking of her heels faded from the apartment. She took another few moments to collect herself and finally began to start her day.

* * *

Thirteen went through most of the day like a sleepwalker. She felt half asleep, but somehow she was still getting work done. By the time evening rolled around she felt completely lost. As the work died down and her colleagues disappeared, she cut out early, drove home quickly, and took a long shower. After she changed into some comfortable clothes she pulled out her suitcase and began packing.

As she went through her clothes, laying them out and packing them away, Thirteen began to feel anxious. When she was done she set her suitcase by the desk where she had left her purse. Shoved in its side was her letter to House. As she remembered the letter and the important information it contained, her anxiety turned to dread. A tight feeling settled in her chest. It squeezed and compressed her lungs until she couldn't breathe. She rushed to her bedroom to retrieve her inhaler. Two puffs later, she still couldn't take a full breath. She wrapped her arms around her ribs and fell to the bed. She squeezed her eyes shut as her body began to shake and tears streamed from her eyes. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could hear it.

Suddenly, Rachel was at the bedside. Her hands were wrapped around either side of Thirteen's face and shaking her gently, urging her to respond. "Remy, look at me!"

After a few moments Thirteen was able to open her eyes. She put her hand over Rachel's as she continued to struggle with deep breaths. As she began to feel less and less like she was attached to her own body, Thirteen slid into Rachel's lap and shut her eyes. She lay there for what seemed like hours.

When she came back to herself, a loud ringing surrounded her. It took a moment for her to realize that it was a pager and not her own ears. She could finally breathe, though the muscles in her chest and ribs were sore. Rachel's arms were wrapped around her tightly. Thirteen took a deep breath and sat up slowly. "How long was I like that?" she asked hoarsely.

"About ten minutes," Rachel said. She still held Thirteen tightly, running small circles on her back. "Are you okay?"

Thirteen nodded, "I don't know what happened."

"You had a panic attack."

"Great," Thirteen groaned. The shrill noise she awoke to still had not stopped. "Who's fucking pager is that?"

"Yours, but both of our phones have been ringing nonstop," Rachel sighed. "There was an accident. I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"Apparently so do I." Thirteen crawled from Rachel's grasp and slipped on her shoes.

"I think you should stay here."

"You said there was an accident. They'll need all available doctors."

"They'll need all alert doctors. You were all but passed out in my lap a minute ago."

"Rachel, I need to go!" Thirteen yelled. "Right now this is still my life."

"Fine," Rachel conceded. "I'll drive."

The two of them rushed to the car and Rachel drove to the hospital as fast as possible. Thirteen finally took a moment to check her phone and pager.

"If it makes you feel any better we have a case."

"Of course you do. Why would House take a break during a disaster?" Rachel sneered. She glanced at Thirteen and took in the displeasure on her face. "Sorry, not your fault. At least you'll be away from the ER. Things will be a little calmer for you."

When they reached the hospital it was swarming with ambulances. Rachel parked with a precarious quickness and they headed in. Before parting ways she grabbed Thirteen's hand and pulled her aside.

"If anything happens, if you start to panic again, page me." Thirteen nodded halfheartedly and began to walk off, but Rachel wouldn't release her. "I'm serious, Remy. Page me."

"I will. I promise."

Rachel reluctantly let go and ran to the ER. Thirteen rushed to the diagnostics department, already preparing herself for the team's demands for her whereabouts.

* * *

Thirteen stood in the team office alone. Her teammates were strewn about the hospital, tending to one crisis or another. For now, she simply stood quietly, taking in the office one last time. She reached into her jacket pocket and retrieved her letter. Just holding it made her feel uneasy. As she crossed over into House's office the feeling quickly turned into the same sickening terror from earlier in the evening. She took a breath and held it for a moment, trying to keep herself steady. Hesitantly, she laid the letter on House's desk and turned to leave. Before she could reach the door, however, Taub walked in.

"What's that?" he asked.

Thirteen hesitated, "I'm asking for some time off."

"What's wrong?"

All Thirteen could do was shoot Taub a complicated look. He had been asking questions all night and she was in no shape for a discussion. She was already beginning to feel tears welling in her eyes.

Taub sighed reluctantly, "Are you okay?"

"Obviously not," Thirteen said flatly. She headed for the door and rushed to the elevator as quickly as she could. She punched the button repeatedly, desperate for it to reach her faster. When the doors finally opened before her, Thirteen sucked in a tense breath and flung herself inside just as the panic overcame her again.

She sank to the floor in her little corner of the elevator. Her mind raced, her heart thudded in her chest, and her breathing became labored, turning fast and shallow as her body heaved with every sob. She felt painfully overwhelmed by the responsibilities that faced her–not just to her brother, but to her family, to Rachel–she wished it would all go away.

Thirteen stayed crouched in the corner for what felt like forever. After a while she found her feet, but the tears continued to fall and she stayed pressed against the elevator. She clung to her corner uncertainly until a hand appeared, reaching out to her with the promise of pulling her from the darkness.

* * *

A heavy storm troubled Princeton. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed hard enough to shake the houses. Thirteen lay in bed listening to the rain spatter against the roof. She couldn't get back to sleep. She watched Rachel as she slept soundly. For a long while Thirteen thought about her and their relationship before much darker thoughts crept into her mind. By this time tomorrow she would be looking after her brother. She would be watching him as he struggled to eat and breathe, unable to control his own body. She would spend each day being his caretaker and a source of support for her family while she pretended that she wasn't doomed to the same fate. She couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that came over her. It threatened to overwhelm her until she remembered Rachel. The gentle flutter of Rachel's breath against her neck roused Thirteen from her thoughts. She curled closer to her lover and allowed the distant thud of her heartbeat to lull her back to sleep.

* * *

The cool light of morning flooded Thirteen's bedroom. It seeped in through the window and the skylights above her bed. The brightness pulled her back into the moment. All the months she had spent chasing Rachel, all the big moments in their relationship, and especially all the events of the night before were still ringing in her mind, but for the time being, she was safe and comfortable in her own bed. As the sunlight surrounded her, Thirteen pulled a pillow over her head and burrowed further into the covers. She groaned as the bed began to shake with Rachel's efforts to wake her. "Get up, Remy," she said, tugging at the pillow over Thirteen's head. "It's late, you've slept in long enough." Rachel stopped trying to remove the pillow for a moment as she attempted to decipher an incomprehensible mumble from Thirteen. "What was that?"

Thirteen lifted the pillow from her face and rolled her eyes as Rachel took the brief moment as an opportunity to snatch it away. "I said I'm staying in bed today."

"No, you're not. You're going to get out of bed, wash up, and come have breakfast with me."

"No. Call Cuddy for me and make something up. You're a better liar, anyway."

"You're not getting a free pass today. I let you sleep as long as I could, we're already late."

Thirteen shot a puzzled look in the direction of the clock, at nearly nine it was far later than she had thought. "I'm still staying in bed," she said as she curled into a ball and shut her eyes tightly.

Rachel sighed, "If you're going to turn this into a game of who can be more stubborn, can you just skip to the part where you fold and get up? You know I'll win." Seeing a small smile from Thirteen, Rachel continued her badgering. "I'll win because I'm more stubborn, more persistent and, if I choose to be, far more annoying. Plus, I have this." Rachel grabbed a mug of coffee from the nightstand and waved it under Thirteen's nose.

As the aroma of fresh coffee reached her, Thirteen sighed and sat up. "You'll win because you always win."

"And don't you forget it," Rachel said, pulling the mug away as Thirteen reached for it. "Not until you've showered and dressed."

Thirteen groaned loudly and rolled out of bed. She hopped in the shower, letting the hot water work away at some of her stress. When the water began to run cold, she finally got out and toweled off. She dressed quickly and met Rachel in the kitchen.

Rachel sat her down at the table and served breakfast, "Did you tell the team what's going on?"

"Not really, but my letter to House is just laying on his desk, so I doubt they'll wait for him to tell them. I just told the guys I was at physical therapy and didn't have my phone."

"No one caught on to your lie?"

"There wasn't time. Besides, I only half-lied, I was with you."

"But I usually see you on Thursdays."

"Taub was the only one who actually asked. Three times, actually."

"Really? What'd you tell him?"

"He found me leaving the letter for House and I told him I was requesting time off for–well I couldn't actually say it, but he knows something's up."

"Did he say anything else?"

"No, but it probably won't be long before the others start prying into my personal life."

"They're not prying, they care about you. Not to mention the fact that you're not a very convincing liar."

"I am a great liar. I just can't lie to you," Thirteen said, scooting closer to Rachel.

"No, see you just have this adorable, charming face that makes you terribly ingratiating. People believe you because they want to, not because you convince them to."

"So, I got away with lying about my brother because you wanted to believe me?"

Rachel shook her head, "That's completely different. And by the way, it's a little too soon to be slipping that into casual conversation. Knowing that someone is lying is all about suspicion. If I can't tell that something is amiss, I can't possibly be suspicious. I can't find the truth if nothing is said. But, I'm onto you now, so no more leaving shit out."

Thirteen laughed softly, "Got it."

"So," Rachel hesitated. "Is it too soon to bring up tonight?"

"We've got to talk about it sometime."

"I got you a hotel and paid it up for a while. My credit card is on file, so you're set for as long as you need it. We're both packed and ready, so we can leave right after work."

"Rach, I'm really not up for work today," Thirteen muttered.

"I know, baby, but I don't want to leave you alone and I can't beg off."

"Yesterday when I actually wanted to work, you wanted me to stay home. Now I want to stay home and you want me go to work."

"Yesterday morning you hadn't had two panic attacks in the span of four hours. I have never seen you like that. I just want to be able to keep an eye on you, to know that you're safe."

Thirteen nodded, "What if I start to freak out at work?"

"If you need a break, or you want to talk or hide out stop by my office."

"You're always looking out for me," Thirteen said taking Rachel's hand.

"And I always will." Rachel leaned over and kissed her, "Are you ready to head out?"

"As ready as I'm going to be," Thirteen shrugged.

"Take a breath, Remy," Rachel said. "You'll be okay."

* * *

When Thirteen arrived at work everything seemed the same. She peered into the clinic for a moment. She had half expected everyone to seem somber and downcast, but it was as busy and lively as ever. After the accident and the night she'd had, it didn't seem right that people could carry on with business as usual.

She stood and watched for a moment longer. She probably should have been looking for a case, but she was so late that there wouldn't be much time. As she spotted Taub she quickly darted around the corner. She headed to the office to settle in before the team began to wonder where she was.

The team office was thankfully empty when Thirteen walked in. She tucked her things away, slipped on her lab coat, and checked House's office. He too was nowhere in sight. She grabbed a mug and poured herself another cup of coffee. If the past few weeks were any indication, she would soon have to give up decaf for something with a stronger jolt. Just as she settled at the table, Taub walked in.

"You're here," he said as he awkwardly hung about by the door.

"So are you," Thirteen said coolly.

"I just thought after last night–you seemed a little…" Taub fumbled for words.

"I'm fine, Taub," Thirteen replied shortly. She busied herself with her coffee and hoped he'd take the hint to move on.

Taub sat next to Thirteen at the end of the table, "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"You said that last night."

"You can talk to me. We're friends, I–"

"You said that, too."

"I just meant that I'm here and you can trust me. Anything you say stays between us."

Thirteen sighed and finally looked up from her mug. "Look Taub, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it's not necessary. Everything's fine. I'm just taking time off, it's not the end of the world."

"Look–" Just as Taub started Foreman and Chase walked in. Foreman took a seat at the head of the table while Chase sat across from Thirteen. Foreman seemed unusually distracted, but Chase wasted no time in getting down to business.

"Any interesting cases?" he ventured.

Thirteen watched as Taub thankfully took the cue and turned his attention away from her, "Here's one, twenty-five-year-old man with numbness and tingling in his legs and speech disorder. Three–"

"Anybody see House?" Foreman interrupted.

"It's ten a.m.," Taub started. "I'd be worried if he was here. This twenty-five-year-old –"

"He was in pretty bad shape yesterday," Foreman cut in again. "After his patient died."

"House has lost patients before," Chase added. "We all have. He's a big boy."

"You didn't see him," Foreman insisted.

"Best thing we can do for him now is find him a new puzzle to solve," Thirteen said.

"Thus bringing us back to my twenty-five-year-old–"

Chase cut him off as quickly as he started and focused on Thirteen, "Yet you're the only person here without a potential case in front of you."

Thirteen narrowed her eyes and tried to skirt the question, "I haven't found the right one yet."

"Oh," Chase said glibly. "I thought maybe it was because you were asking for a leave of absence and wouldn't have time to see a case through."

Thirteen shot a sharp look at Taub who promptly defended himself. "I didn't say anything."

"He didn't," Chase confirmed. "I saw an envelope on House's desk with your name on it, so naturally I steamed it open."

"What's wrong with you," Taub asked. "You steam an envelope to keep it secret."

"Which is why I just ripped it," Foreman said. "Are you going to tell us where you're going?"

Thirteen studied Foreman cautiously for a moment, then scoffed, "Sure sounds like a no." She waited rather anxiously for the guys to get back to business. Much to her dissatisfaction no one really seemed to be focused on work. They meandered about with dead-end cases, occasionally throwing a concerned look in her direction. They seemed more than content to be without a case. Thirteen quickly excused herself. As was becoming a pattern, Taub followed shortly after her.

"Hold on a second," he called, catching up to her as she rushed down the hallway.

Thirteen stopped and spun around quickly. "What?" she asked crossly. "You wanted a case, I'm going to find us a case. Which is completely pointless since not one of you seems to actually want to work today."

"I'm sorry about the ambush back there. We're just worried about you."

"I told you, there's no need."

"Forgive me if that doesn't put my mind at ease. You don't have to wall yourself off. I don't want to pry, but I'm here if you want to talk."

"Stop saying that," Thirteen demanded. "I don't."

"Fine," Taub conceded. A discomfited look came over his face as he leaned towards Thirteen and wrapped his arms around her.

Thirteen stiffened a bit, but didn't push away. She indulged Taub for a bit and half-heartedly returned the gesture until the hug began to go on too long for her liking. "Taub?" she began.

"Yeah?"

"This is really awkward."

"Yeah," Taub nodded and quickly released her. "Sorry about that."

Thirteen nodded in return and quickly stepped back. "I'm just going to go." She shook her head and laughed under her breath. She began to head for the elevator, but remembering her incident the night before, Thirteen opted for the stairs. She tried to take her time in getting to her destination, but everything in her felt pressed to hurry. She turned a corner sharply and made her way into the locker room. When she reached her locker she emptied the few personal items she'd left into a box. She stared into it for a moment. Everything suddenly seemed disposable and inconsequential. Her life was being reduced to little more than boxes and bags. She sat the lot back in her locker and from her pocket she pulled the confirmation receipt for a flight. She tucked it into the side of the box and closed the locker harshly. She leaned against it heavily, her head pressed to the cold metal. Everything she had ever wanted in life was within her grasp and she had to walk away from it. It felt as if the rug were being pulled out from under her and it pissed her off to no end. Thirteen gave the locker a sharp kick and left.

She flew up the stairs again, already thinking of places to avoid the team for a while. This time, however, her rushing got the better of her. By the third flight of stairs she was breathing raggedly. By the fourth she was wheezing. As she left the stairwell and detoured to Rachel's office, it was all she could do to stay upright and avoid making a spectacle of herself. She barged into the office just as the room started to spin. Rachel looked on for only a second before rushing to her aid. She guided Thirteen to a chair and folded her arms above her head. She pulled her stethoscope from her desk and quickly gauged Thirteen's breath sounds. Rachel ran out for a few moments, returning with two vials and syringes. By now Thirteen was beginning to look pale and faintly blue.

Rachel slapped her cheek lightly, "Remy, stay with me. I'm going to give you a shot of Epi and some prednisone." Rachel prepared the syringes and administered the medications. She watched tensely for a few minutes as Thirteen's breaths slowly eased into normal range. "Another panic attack?" she asked when she thought Thirteen was ready to speak.

"No," Thirteen said hoarsely as she shook her head. "I didn't feel panicked. I was angry and tense and stressed. I don't know, maybe it was."

"We should do something about that."

"Later. I should get back to work," Thirteen said, rising shakily to her feet.

Without much effort Rachel pushed her back into the chair. "You should sit down before you wind up passed out in the hallway." Rachel handed her a cool bottle of water. "Relax and sip this slowly. I'll be right back."

When Rachel returned she had her arms full with prescription bags and a small, square device. Thirteen huffed and scoffed as soon as she saw it. "No nebulizer, Rachel. I don't have time for this."

"You can spare ten minutes. What's your hurry? You didn't even want to come to work."

"But you made me come anyway," Thirteen said snidely. "Now that I'm here I need to keep my mind busy."

Rachel pushed a newspaper over to Thirteen, "So do the crossword during your treatment. You need more prednisone, you're not going until you're done." Thirteen sighed and opened the machine. She pulled the mask over her nose and mouth and waited while Rachel set up the medication. When she turned it on, the machine hissed and hummed to life. As Thirteen breathed deeply, taking in the medication, Rachel gave her a thorough check-up. She focused great attention on Thirteen's lungs again, scrutinizing every sound. "This is no good, Rem. Most people have a panic attack and just feel like they can't breathe. You have one and you physically cannot draw breath." Thirteen simply nodded. Rachel unpacked the prescriptions and set them out for her. "I want to try you on Advair, see if that will control your asthma better. I got you a new rescue inhaler, too. But, neither of those will work if we can't manage these attacks, so…" Rachel pulled a bottle of pills from one of the bags. "Ativan, half milligram tabs."

Thirteen rolled her eyes and uttered muffled curses through the mask, "I don't need–"

"Yes, you do. This can only get worse. Soon you'll be under even more stress. You need to get a handle on this now. And you have no reason not to give this a shot."

"Rachel…"

"Try it today and see how you feel. We can take it from there." Rachel smiled softly as Thirteen finally nodded. She moved in closer and took hold of Thirteen's hands, "Don't shut me out, okay? Not now."

Thirteen nodded again. As the nebulizer gave a final sputter she untangled herself and stood surely from the chair. She wrapped her arms around Rachel, letting herself lean a bit. "You're such a hard-ass," she said, getting a good laugh from Rachel. "But I'm always glad I have you." With a kiss she pulled back and took the pills from the desk. "What do you recommend, Doctor Galvin?"

"Just one for now. You can take up to four, but try to space it out, these can really throw you for a loop. Why don't you just stay here until you're feeling better?"

Thirteen nodded as she swallowed one of the pills. She let Rachel pull her over to the couch against the wall where she curled silently into her lap and shut her eyes. She sighed contentedly as Rachel rubbed her back. "Everything is going to be okay, Remy," she said soothingly. Thirteen felt herself being lulled into a near-dozing state. The drugs began to work on her as her breathing deepened and her limbs relaxed. She stayed that way for nearly twenty minutes until a sharp knock fell on Rachel's door. Thirteen came around slowly and pulled herself upright.

"Just a moment," Rachel called out. "That's my next patient."

Thirteen nodded, "I should get going."

"No, you can stay. We have to go down to the physio lab anyway."

"It's okay," Thirteen said. She was already on her feet again. "I'm feeling much better. We both need to get back to work."

"Okay. Oh! Hold on a second," Rachel said. She went to her desk and pulled a tin from one of the drawers. It was half full of mints as she emptied the Ativan into it and handed it to Thirteen along with her other prescriptions. "To keep the team out of your business. All they'll know is that you have fresh breath."

Thirteen smiled and tucked everything into the pockets of her lab coat. "Thank you, Rachel."

"You're sure you'll be alright?"

"I'll be fine. You need to get to your patient."

"I need to be sure you're back on your feet. He can wait another minute," Rachel said. She pulled Thirteen into a quick hug and kissed her tenderly. "If you start to feel stressed again call me and we'll go home."

"Okay," Thirteen said quietly. "I'll be fine, though."

Rachel nodded and released her. She walked Thirteen to the door, watching her carefully. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," Thirteen said with a small smile. "Don't worry so much." Rachel threw her an unconvinced look as she headed off.

Thirteen slunk through the hallways, searching for a quiet place to keep to herself. She headed for the doctor's lounge. As she had hoped, it was empty. She sat down on the couch and took a deep breath. She held her head in her hands and took in the silence. She tried to shut out all the thoughts swirling around her mind. It was easier than usual. Perhaps Rachel was on to something. For a long while, Thirteen focused on the calm around her. She sat uncharacteristically still for another few minutes until restlessness got the better of her. She hopped up from the couch and paced around for a moment before the pool table caught her eye.

It had been a long time since she'd been able to enjoy games. At one time she had been quite good at billiards, she'd even been a bit of a shark a time or two. Thirteen sidled up to the table. She ran her fingers over the cool, veneered sides. She racked the balls and took one of the cues from the caddy on the wall. She lined up her shot and struck the cue ball firmly. It gave a solid crack and hit its intended mark, leaving Thirteen with a satisfied smile. She took another shot, this time playing the diamonds and sinking two balls. She sunk shot after shot until the table was empty. She racked the balls again and began a new game. Just as she lined up her third shot, Foreman walked in.

"Why are you going to Rome?" he asked bluntly. Thirteen only stared at him. "I found the flight information in your locker."

Thirteen sauntered casually around the pool table, "I love how everyone thinks it's so quaint and childlike for me to expect a modicum of privacy around here." It wasn't that she was surprised he'd gone snooping and found her decoy, but part of her had hoped he would have enough respect not to.

"Your flight's tomorrow. What's so urgent in Rome?"

"I hear they want to tear down the Colosseum to build a karaoke bar," Thirteen answered flippantly as she continued her game.

"The Buena Esperanza medical center in Rome is doing a Huntington's trial," Foreman pressed.

"Seriously, I live to sing."

"I know that they've been doing fetal neural transplantation. I also know that their subjects have increased risk of intercranial hemorrhage," Foreman said. Thirteen ignored him as best she could and kept her focus on the table. "This isn't the time to join that trial. This research is in its infancy. So is your condition."

As hard as she was trying and despite the fact that she was on tranquilizers, Foreman was getting to Thirteen. She could feel her calm begin to waver and her heart pick up pace. She clenched her jaw and stood squarely in front of Foreman. "You read my note, you go through my locker, and then you decide you want to round it off by lecturing me on my life choices?"

"I'm worried about you."

"Oh, well that makes it alright then," Thirteen said dismissively. She tossed the cue on the table, grabbed her lab coat, and walked out. As she rushed down the hallway, she pulled the mint tin from her pocket. She quickly slipped another Ativan into her mouth and swallowed hard. She paced uncertainly for a second before heading for the stairs. She ascended slowly this time, almost cautiously. When she reached her destination she heaved open a heavy door and was met with a cool breeze. The sun shone brightly on the hospital roof. Thirteen walked to the edge and leaned heavily. She closed her eyes and took deep, steady breaths. She felt the sunshine on her face and listened to the hum of the town around her. She opened her eyes and gazed out at the landscape. She could see for miles. Trees and beautiful old buildings stretched on forever. Thirteen pulled out her phone and dialed Rachel, "Could you meet me on the roof?" When she had confirmation she tucked the phone away and went back to her view.

After a few minutes the roof door creaked noisily and Thirteen turned to see Rachel walking towards her. She rushed to meet her and greeted her with a tight hug. Rachel let out a huff of air as Thirteen collided with her in her haste. She wrapped her arms around Thirteen tightly and rubbed her back. They stood that way for a long while.

When Thirteen finally pulled back Rachel smiled at her and gently tucked a bit of stray hair behind Thirteen's ear. "If you've called me up here to jump, may I suggest parachutes first?"

Thirteen laughed and quickly hugged her again. "I just needed to see you. I was starting to feel…I was losing myself again."

"But you didn't?"

"No, not completely. I took another Ativan and came up here, took some deep breaths."

"That's good. That's really good. Do you have any idea what made you start to feel stressed again?"

Thirteen nodded, "Foreman."

Rachel balled her fists and gritted her teeth, "I swear to God –"

"Don't fly off the handle. It's fine. He just found the flight information I planted. I knew he would."

"That still doesn't give him the right–"

"I know. And believe me I'm pissed that he went snooping through my things, but what got to me was the fact that he got to me," Thirteen sighed. "I am about to spend the next however-many months caring for my brother during what will probably be his last days. If I can't handle Foreman's usual assery, how am I supposed to handle that?"

"I don't know," Rachel said honestly. "I have know idea how you're going to get through this, I really don't. I just know that you will."

"You don't know that."

"I do. I know you. And I know that you are strong, probably better than you do. Watching your brother waste away will break your heart, but I trust that it is open and resilient enough to recover."

"You give me too much credit," Thirteen scoffed.

"You don't give yourself enough. I'll be there to help, but you can do this."

Thirteen gave a small laugh and ran her hands through her hair anxiously. "How is it that you come up here, tell me I'm about to go through hell, and I actually feel better?"

Rachel shrugged, "Talent, I guess."

Thirteen gave Rachel another vigorous hug. As she began to pull away a shrill beeping sent both of them rifling through their pockets.

"It's me. The savages are getting restless," Thirteen said. Rachel chuckled softly. "You laugh now, but wait until I leave and they focus their attention on you. You'll see what they're like."

"I have no doubt, that's why I laugh." Rachel kissed Thirteen quickly before she ran off. "I'm just a phone call away if you need me."

Thirteen nodded with a smile and headed back to the office. When she arrived the guys looked worried and frustrated.

"Where were you?" Foreman asked.

Thirteen rolled her eyes and ignored him. "What's wrong?" she asked Chase.

"Our last neurosurgeon is out sick. If we don't have one on the premises we have to shut down the ER."

"What the hell happened to our other neurosurgeons? We had three."

"Now we don't," Taub said. "House wants us to find a replacement."

"Why? Since when does he care about anything that happens outside this office?" The guys all wore the same puzzled look. Thirteen shrugged, "Fine, lets get on it."

The rest of the team nodded in agreement. As usual, Foreman took charge. "Chase, you stall DPH. Taub, get Richardson back here. Thirteen, try and track down a replacement."

The team went their separate ways. The guys vacated the office leaving Thirteen alone. She grabbed her laptop and began tracking down doctors. Her head was feeling a bit fuzzy with all the medications that were running through her system. Still, the deep, relaxed breathing the tranquilizers induced allowed her to stay calm and focused.

Thirteen began to pore through the listings in front of her. She switched quickly back and forth between her laptop and her phone. Every doctor she contacted was another dead end. It was soon apparent that there were simply no doctors available. It wasn't long before the rest of the team returned, their efforts proving unsuccessful as well.

Thirteen rose from the table as her teammates filed in.

"Did you find anyone?" Foreman asked.

"I have called every neurosurgeon within a forty-five mile radius. Nothing."

"I think House is just testing us," Chase suggested.

"He's always testing us," Taub said.

"Test or not, it's a problem." Foreman insisted.

"It's not our problem," Chase scoffed. "Why the hell is it House's problem?"

"Where the hell is Cuddy?" Foreman asked. "We either report this and half the hospital gets shut down, or we cover it up and run the risk that the entire hospital gets shut down."

"Or we get Richardson," Thirteen suggested, heading off determinedly.

"He's sick," Foreman quipped.

"And we're doctors," she said, turning back to him with a shrug. "We get people better."

Thirteen marched down the hallway and headed for the parking garage, only stopping briefly at the pharmacy. Chase soon followed behind her. She had wondered which of them would accompany her. For now, Chase was the lesser evil. As they reached the garage, it suddenly dawned on Thirteen that not only did she not have her car, but she was in no condition to drive. She glanced at Chase cautiously. "I'm getting a migraine, do you mind driving?"

"Not at all," Chase said. "Maybe this time we won't end up in the back of a squad car."

Thirteen scoffed, "You run one red light and you never live it down?" She rolled her eyes as Chase flashed his schoolboy smile and ducked into the car.

* * *

When they arrived at Richardson's house Thirteen hopped out of the passenger seat hastily. She barely gave Chase a chance to bring the car to a stop. Chase put the car in park and ran after her. "You could have at least waited until I turned off the car! What's your hurry?"

Thirteen spun around quickly to face him. "In case you've forgotten we're kind of on a time crunch. We need to get Richardson back to the hospital now."

"You really need to calm down," Chase said.

"Believe me, I'm calm. But that doesn't mean I'm patient."

She turned away from Chase and rung the doorbell. They waited a long while, but no one answered. Thirteen rang the bell a few more times before she took to banging on it. Chase had long since given up on trying to reign in her impatience. She continued banging until the door finally opened. They gazed at the man in front of them. His face held a heavy pallor and his skin was slicked with a fine coating of sweat. He looked at them dully.

"Dr. Richardson?" Thirteen began slowly. "I'm Dr. Hadley and this is Dr. Chase, the hospital sent us. I'm sorry, but we really need to get you back before DPH shuts us down."

Richardson shook his head and held a finger to his mouth as he gagged a bit. "I can't stop vomiting. I'm not going –" Before Richardson could finish his sentence, a lurch of his stomach sent him staggering to the bathroom. Violent heaving and the flushing of a toilet was all that could be heard for several minutes. Thirteen and Chase lingered outside the bathroom awkwardly. Thirteen paced uncomfortably, trying to focus on anything other than the sound of vomiting.

After a few minutes more there was quiet. When Richardson had been silent for a bit too long, Thirteen and Chase inched their way into the bathroom to check on him. Richardson was clutching the toilet with all his remaining strength. His head lay on top of the seat cover and his quick, shallow breaths were the only sound in the room. Thirteen hated that she was going to have to force him to leave, but she couldn't see any other way. "Dr. Richardson?" she called softly. When Richardson gave her no acknowledgement, she felt her patience running short again. She leaned against the doorframe crossly. "Look, you're the only neurosurgeon we've got. You have to suck it up and go back to the hospital." Her words came out far more sternly than she had intended, but she didn't care.

"We're not asking you to operate, just to be there," Chase added as he threw Thirteen a disapproving look.

"Unless you can transport this toilet with me, I'm not leaving the room," Richardson said.

"I'll get a bucket," Chase replied.

"You're missing the point," Richardson continued. "I ate bad sushi, I'm sick. Go away."

"We can give you promethazine for the nausea," Chase pushed.

"Already took it. And trimethobenzamide."

"Maybe this isn't food poisoning," Thirteen considered.

"Whatever it is, it must've damaged the lining of his stomach. Until that heals nothing's going to work," Chase said.

"So we need to treat both that and the nausea."

"And whatever's wrong with him."

Thirteen thought for a moment, "We give him ondansetron and prostaglandins."

"And whatever's wrong with him," Chase insisted. "Neither of those two treat any possible underlying condition."

"Who cares?" Thirteen shrugged. "He's not our patient, the hospital is."

"I can hear you," Richardson said pitifully from the floor.

Thirteen walked over to Richardson. She sighed as she crouched down next to him. "You're pretty miserable aren't you? Would you be willing to take a fairly risky drug if it would make it all go away?"

Richardson slowly lifted his head from the toilet and gave Thirteen a look that almost certainly meant 'yes'. She jumped to her feet and went to retrieve her bag. Chase followed closely on her heels, watching her as she pulled vials, syringes, and a few other supplies from her bag.

"What is going on with you today?" Chase asked as Thirteen donned gloves and began to measure medications into the syringes. "You can't just rush through everything without considering the risks."

"I have considered the risks. If he's already taken the standard treatments, this is our next best option."

"He hasn't considered anything. You're giving a risky treatment to a desperate man."

"What's your point," Thirteen huffed. She started to walk off, but Chase planted himself in front of her.

"You may not have to deal with House tomorrow, but the rest of us will be here when he's pissy about getting chewed out."

"That's not my problem. If House wanted things done a certain way he should have come to work today. I was given a job, and I figured out a way to do it. Now get out of my way."

Thirteen returned to the bathroom and attended to Richardson. She sterilized his skin and wrapped a tourniquet around his arm. Once she found a strong vein, she administered the medications. She began to leave hastily, but something made her take one last look at Richardson. He was still covered in sweat and beginning to look dehydrated. Thirteen looked around the bathroom for the linen closet. She grabbed a washcloth and moistened it with cool water before she gently wiped Richardson's face. She wrapped the washcloth around his neck and returned to the sink. She found a cup by the sink and filled it with water. She crouched down next to Richardson and held the cup while he slowly sipped. When he'd had enough, Thirteen returned to the bedroom.

Chase had sprawled himself across Richardson's bed and was fiddling around with a crystal chess set. Thirteen crawled onto the foot of the bed and made herself comfortable. Once Chase finished setting the pieces, the two of them began a game. They played quietly for a while. Chase chose his moves so cautiously that Thirteen could see them before he ever touched a piece. She was sure her calm, collected mind was an asset as well. With much of her stress removed from the equation, she had been intensely focused for most of the day. Her moves were chosen quickly and boldly, and they continuously left Chase baffled.

"Have you read the list of side effects on those drugs?" Chase asked after a long while. "We could crash his BP."

"I haven't heard a thump, so I assume he's still quietly puking," Thirteen said passively.

"We could be making him worse."

"Bigger picture: we're making the hospital better. We can test for whatever you want to test him for once he's stable enough to get back to the hospital. Now stop being a girl and move," Thirteen said, gesturing to the board. Chase flashed her a sheepish look and finally moved a piece. "So," she continued. "Are you going to ask me about this Huntington's trial? And by ask, I mean give me your opinion."

"No. There is one thing, though," Chase said. "Will you have sex with me?"

Thirteen stared at him a moment, trying to discern how serious he was. "What?" she finally asked.

"Well, this trial means you're leaving right away. I was playing a long game. Deadlines have been moved up."

Thirteen's mouth worked away at words her mind couldn't find. She simply came up empty. She was flustered to say the least. Before Rachel, during her darker days, she might have accepted Chase's offer. Now 'no' didn't seem to be anywhere near a strong enough answer. Thankfully Richardson stumbled out of the bathroom in time to break up the awkward silence that was settling in. Thirteen twisted around to face him. He looked far better than he had before. He was standing, no longer hunched over or stumbling along, even his color was returning.

"Wow, that stuff is good," he said.

"Think you can make it back to the hospital?" Thirteen asked. She and Chase rose from the bed and looked Richardson over a bit.

"Uh-huh," Richardson mumbled, more focused on a nearby lamp. "That lamp is shiny. I mean, the way it shines is….shiny."

Chase looked at Richardson strangely, "I take it this is one of the side effects of the drugs?"

"Who cares, let's go," Thirteen said. She led Richardson over to his closet, her face pulling into an awkward wince as she passed Chase. She helped Richardson quickly change into decent clothes and they were soon on their way back to the hospital.

* * *

When they arrived at the hospital, Thirteen became even more focused. She was determined to get Richardson well. All she could think of was getting him back to work so she could leave. She needed to go home. She needed to put the stress of this day behind her. She needed time to clear her mind and collect herself before more challenging stresses were thrust upon her.

Thirteen was focused to the point of tuning everything else out. After hooking Richardson up to a banana bag, she gave him a quick, but thorough exam . She let Taub field the annoying questions Cuddy's assistant threw their way, and nodded vaguely as Taub consoled him with a plausible lie. He waited until Cuddy's assistant rushed from the room before turning to her.

"What is wrong with him?"

"High blood sugar," Richardson mumbled. "You just said so."

"Chase is running labs," Thirteen said. "Right now, the top two contenders are hepatitis and peptic ulcer disease."

"So, is today really your last day?" Taub asked, changing the subject.

Thirteen stared at him stone-faced for a second. "I'm flying out tomorrow." She was surprised by how easily and casually the lies were beginning to roll off her tongue.

"How long a leave are you taking?"

Thirteen shrugged, "Depends."

"On the drug trial. Sounds risky."

"Yadda yadda, you don't think I should do it. Message heard." Thirteen was verging on irritation now. Even with a cover story, she still had to endure the team's pestering. She turned her attention back to Richardson before Taub said something surprising.

"No, I approve. Living fast and dying young is crap. If you have a chance to get better, I say good for you."

Thirteen could only stare at him for a moment. She was grateful for Taub's thoughtfulness, both in that moment and in the many times he'd tried to reach out to her since last night. For a moment she wanted to tell him the truth. For a moment she wanted him to hug her again and tell her everything would be fine. As her emotions came at her in a flurry, she could feel a strong twinge of panic breaking through again. As she went to speak her breath hitched. She cleared her throat and muttered a quick "Thanks" before leaving the room.

Thirteen rushed to the bathroom. She went to the sink and let cool water fill her hands. She splashed her face and ran her hands over the back of her neck. She took a few deep, slow breaths and gave herself a hard look in the mirror. She remembered what Rachel had said about how strong she was. She was trying so hard to get through this day and it only seemed to be getting harder.

Thirteen's hand went to her pocket. She fished out the tin again and looked it over. She wanted nothing more than to manage this on her own, but the stress was wearing her down quickly. Reluctantly, she took out another Ativan and swallowed it.

* * *

Sometime later Thirteen sat in the team office again. The team had tried and failed to subvert the DPH inspector and the ER and ICU were in the process of being shut down. Richardson only seemed to be getting worse and they still had no leads on what was ailing him. The evening was wearing on and any patience Thirteen had reserved was gone. She was tired and the drugs were making her hazy. As far as she was concerned, she was done. The only thing left to do was to stay occupied until Rachel was as well.

Chase walked in with his head hung, "Labs show he's negative for everything. I'm guessing at least one of them is wrong."

"Who cares?" Thirteen whinged. "The ER and the ICU are half-empty, the place is crawling with suits. It's over."

"You do know we still have a sick patient here, right?" Chase asked sternly. "He's the guy sitting right behind you taking off his clothes again."

The team turned to check on Richardson. Sure enough, he was unbuttoning his shirt and trying make an exit. Taub rushed over to him as Chase and Thirteen stood ready to block his path.

"Uh, whoa, whoa, whoa–uh, why don't you just sit down and take it easy?" he suggested.

"He should be coming down by now," Chase said, scrutinizing Richardson.

"And yet, I'm not," Richardson said excitedly. Taub pushed Richardson back into his chair.

"What if his behavior isn't a side effect of the ondansetron?" Foreman called to them from the table. "What if it's a symptom?"

"Thank you," Chase said as Foreman joined them. "What causes delirium and nausea?"

"He's been stuck here in the hospital a few days, nobody else is sick, so it can't be environmental," Taub said.

"Not exactly stuck, I snuck out," Richardson interjected. The whole team shot him a hard glare. "Freedom is my birthright."

"Where did you go?" Foreman asked.

"The seafood festival at the convention center."

"We're screwed," Thirteen said. "The seafood festival has stuff from all around the world in combinations nobody's ever thought of. We could be here all year."

Chase bent down to Richardson's level, "You had shrimp?"

"Uh-huh."

"And crab?"

"Uh-huh."

"Lobster?"

"Uh-huh."

"And?"

"I ate whatever looked good," Richardson said flatly.

An idea suddenly struck Thirteen, snapping her from her haze. "Did you eat any roe? Little, tiny eggs?"

"Nummy," Richardson said childishly.

"Toad eggs will cause nausea and they can get you high," she said, thinking through her thesis. "If I'm right, the antidote is fast-acting. If we can get him to keep his clothes on long enough, he can pass as a functioning neurosurgeon."

As Thirteen left she spied Richardson pulling at his shirt once again. She left the guys to deal with it and rushed off to track down the antidote they needed. On her way to Richardson's treatment room, her phone buzzed. A quick glance revealed a text from Rachel reading, _Ready when you are._ Thirteen tucked her phone away and hurried off. She prayed that she was right about Richardson's condition. She couldn't spend another hour in the hospital.

* * *

When she arrived at Richardson's room, Foreman was prepping him. Thirteen glared at him cautiously. After their earlier encounter just being in the same room with him made her feel on edge. She kept her head down and began to prepare the medication. Foreman drew the curtain for privacy and stood by the bed as Thirteen started the infusion.

"What if it doesn't work? What if I stay this way forever?" Richardson asked.

"The antidote works quickly," Thirteen said dismissively. "If we're right, you should be back to your old self in no time."

"My old self was boring," Richardson mumbled, beginning to undress again. "Can't we keep the new self?"

"Just lay down and stop unbuttoning," Thirteen said sternly. She pulled his hands from his shirt as if he were a child and returned to her work.

"I'm sorry that I read your note," Foreman said. "And looked in your locker."

Thirteen shot him an annoyed look before shrugging it off. "You get used to that kind of thing around here."

"Do you have anyone going with you to Rome?"

"Is that your passive-aggressive way of asking me if I'm seeing somebody else?"

"I hope you are," Foreman said frankly. "I mean, I hope you have someone with you. If I'm scared about this, I can't imagine how you must feel. You shouldn't be alone. If you want, I could fly over for a few days. Friends."

Thirteen stared at him unbelievingly for a moment. It had been a long time since she'd seen Foreman be so considerate. For a moment, she could remember what had drawn her to him in the first place. She was more than a little overwhelmed. She hadn't a clue how to respond to him. She was so wary of giving something away, of breaking down, of letting on to the truth. She collected her thoughts and spoke carefully. "I appreciate that, but I think I'll be okay. I guess we took the long way around to being friends, huh?" She extended her hand to Foreman and clasped his tightly. She smiled warmly and genuinely before Richardson piled his hand atop theirs.

"I guess we all did," he said quietly.

Thirteen's smiled dropped as she rolled her eyes at Richardson. She let go of Foreman's hand and quickly returned to work. This case couldn't be resolved quickly enough.

In little over an hour Richardson was on the mend. Thirteen and Foreman rehydrated him and gave him a thorough reexamination. His symptoms had almost completely abated. Thirteen rushed him off to the ER before it was too late. Once there she found Chase waiting anxiously. As soon as he spotted them he waved them over and guided them to the DPH inspector. The inspector was mumbling something she didn't hear to Cuddy's assistant.

"Don't worry about it," Chase interrupted. "I believe you wanted to talk to Dr. Richardson, our neurosurgeon."

Richardson extended his hand to the inspector and spoke coherently for the first time in hours. "I'm sorry that we met under such trying circumstances. I hope you'll restore our rating as a level one trauma center and reopen the ER and ICU immediately."

"An accidental case of poisoning," Thirteen interjected. "Dr. Richardson has been treated and is ready to resume work."

"Hmm," the inspector considered. He looked at them all skeptically, he had already be lied to once. He looked at Richardson sharply, "Touch your nose with your index finger and tell me how you'd treat a cerebral contusion."

Richardson stammered a bit, but pulled himself together. "I would watch for edema and transtentorial herniation."

"Good enough," the inspector said. "Turn it around."

With the matter finally settled everyone set off for their own destinations. Thirteen set her sights on the exit while Chase chastised Cuddy's assistant. "Next time avoid responsibility," she heard him whisper before he turned to her. "Cake?" he asked. "Taub thought we should have a little party to see you off properly. He gets sentimental about these things."

With Chase showing no signs of leaving her be, she slowed to a more casual pace. "I never should have flashed him," she joked.

"Speaking of which," Chase started. "Earlier today I asked you about having sex. You gave me a look that almost certainly could only mean 'no'. However, on the other hand, I'd be remiss if I didn't follow up and confirm." Thirteen looked at him incredulously and tried not to laugh. "See, it's the same look," Chase said. He stepped in front of Thirteen and planted himself in her path. "So, if it didn't mean 'no' the first time then –"

Thirteen was having a hard time holding back a laugh at how ridiculous and awkward the situation was. "No," she finally said. She shook her head firmly. "No, no, no. No."

"No pressure," Chase replied.

"Does that method ever work?"

A bashful look came over Chase, "At least once."

Thirteen finally let out a small laugh. She was thankful to have her mood lightened, however briefly. She went to Chase and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Once she embraced him it hit her how much things were about to change. It would be a long time before she had another light, silly moment. She shut her eyes tightly. In that moment she wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to hold on to him forever, to beg him to keep her safe from the terrifying changes taking place.

"I'm, um, getting mixed signals," Chase muttered after a while.

Thirteen released him quickly and patted him on the shoulder. "See you at the cake." She rushed off before he could see that she was crying.

Thirteen didn't bother to stop and pull herself together. She rushed to the team office, nearly running, and grabbed her things. She set out towards the parking garage. Her breathing was off kilter and she was wiping at her cheeks frantically, not caring anymore who saw. She reached for the tin in her pocket once more. This made four. She had reached her limit already. She slipped another Ativan into her mouth. This time, instead of swallowing, she let it dissolve under her tongue. By the time she reached Rachel's car it had melted away completely. Rachel was ready and waiting in the car. Thirteen slipped into the passenger's seat and turned to her desperately. "Get me out of here."

* * *

Thirteen and Rachel sat parked outside Thirteen's building. Neither of them had spoken since leaving the hospital. Thirteen hadn't made any attempt to leave the car and Rachel stayed by her side patiently. The silence was wearing on. The car was thick with words unsaid.

Rachel gave Thirteen a bit more time before she ventured a single tentative sentence, "How was the rest of your day?"

Thirteen stayed quiet for a while longer before she finally spoke. "It was fine. I diagnosed our neurosurgeon with poisoning due to toad eggs. We saved the hospital's level one status."

"Wow," Rachel said, genuinely impressed. "I have my very own magic elf working behind the scenes." Thirteen let out a soft, quiet laugh. "How was everything else? How are you feeling?"

"Kind of…numb. I maxed myself out on Ativan."

"I'm sorry. I know you don't like being drugged, but if they're helping–"

"They are. I don't think it was the drugs, not entirely. I just keep thinking about how different everything will be soon and it makes me feel empty," Thirteen said blankly. "And it's been a strange day. I had a lot of heart-to-hearts with the guys. Especially Taub."

"Oh? What'd he say?" Rachel asked. She watched Thirteen closely. She looked so fragile, as if she could crack at any moment. Rachel was afraid of what would happen once she stopped talking.

"He confronted me in the hallway. He told me he didn't want to pry, but if I needed anything, I knew where to find him."

"That was nice of him."

"He also promised not to tell House. Then he gave me a hug."

"That was awkward of him. Are you sure he wasn't just trying to cop a feel?"

"He didn't grope me, Rachel, he just gave me a hug," Thirteen chided, smacking Rachel's arm lightly.

"I'm just saying, ever since you flashed him he's been ogling you."

Thirteen laughed for a moment before sobering up. Her laughter sucked backwards into a gasp, quickly turning to heaving sobs. Tears fell down her face in thick streams as she found her way into Rachel's lap. Rachel wrapped herself around Thirteen as her body began to tremble. It wasn't long before Rachel herself began to well up. She held Thirteen as closely and as tightly as she could. The air grew heavy with their cries as salty rivers ran from them both.


End file.
